How Long Is Never?
by justcallmefaye
Summary: Starfire doesn't get an answer to that question, and the repercussions of Robin's ambiguous reply cause more problems than they should. Except that Robin is not the only problem plaguing Starfire in Jump City. StarRob.
1. Forget It

Disclaimer: Teen Titans isn't mine. none of the songs i use are mine, either. in fact, aside from this plot, nothing is mine. so get over it already and just read and enjoy.

**How Long is Never?**

**Chapter 1**

"_It's a crime you let it happen to me_

_Nevermind, I'll let it happen to you_

_Nevermind, forget it, there's nothing to lose_

_But my mind and all the things I wanted."_

_--"Forget It", Breaking Benjamin_

Breathing heavily, Starfire cautiously peered around the corner, scanning the fluorescent-flooded corridor for any signs of life. There was nothing there; it was completely empty. Her mouth tightened into a thin, determined line, and the no-longer-teen Titan stepped into the new hallway, continuing to glance about as she crept along its metallic length. It unnerved her, the absence of guards. Certainly they must be _some_where, and why wouldn't the path to the reactor of the entire facility be under constant surveillance? It simply didn't add up, she thought to herself for the twentieth time. Something was not right here; something was not right with this whole place, for X'Hal's sake. Maybe it was all in her head, though. Maybe she was imagining danger where it didn't exist because she had been trained to always anticipate the worst.

She almost laughed bitterly to herself, but she couldn't quite summon it. Robin would be so proud: in the end, she had become like him. Paranoid and suspicious and single-minded. She couldn't help wondering for the briefest of moments if he had become like her, if he had ever learned to let others in, if he had ever decided that never was too long.

"_Perhaps not now, friend Robin, but someday, surely. Correct?"_

"_No, Star. Not now, not ever. Never."_

"_Never? But…but how long is this 'never' of which you speak?"_

"_Long enough, Star. Long enough to be forever."_

A slight frown marred Starfire's features as she arrived at the door at the far end of the corridor, and she shoved the memory from the forefront of her mind. She would not allow herself to be distracted by recollections of what he had determined should never change. Never. It was such a hopelessly depressing word. Checking over her shoulder, she tried the knob, but as she had expected, it refused to turn. Locked. She let out a small, impatient sigh. She had hoped to cause as little commotion as possible, and here they had to go and lock the door.

Reaching up, she wrenched the hinges clean off the top of the door and then bent down to get the ones at the bottom. She tossed the twisted metal pieces aside, straightened, and eyed the door once more, sizing it up. After a moment of thought, she gripped the knob with one hand and wedged her other fingers in the gap between the door's top and the door frame, and with a grunt and impossible strength, jerked the door free; the lock broke with a sharp _snap_. She set the broken door aside easily and faced the now-open gap, her small eyebrows rising sharply at what she saw on the other side.

A group of equally surprised-looking guards gaped at her momentarily before they recovered, sweeping their guns into position, and Starfire found herself staring down the muzzles of half a dozen assault rifles. Apparently she hadn't been paranoid and suspicious enough. Robin would never have been caught off-guard; he would surely have anticipated such a possibility. He would have known he would be facing death in the eye and he would have been able to think clearly.

_Robin…_

"Freeze!" one of the guards ordered, even though Starfire had not yet moved.

Starfire obligingly froze, forcing her thoughts into some semblance of order and surveying her enemies. Six of them: two for her starbolts, two for her eyebeams…still left two. Hopefully they would be shocked enough to allow her time to recover before they could do the same. Hopefully.

"_Forever? You cannot mean that. I will hope that you—"_

"_Don't hope. All hope gets you is a chance to be disappointed and hurt. And I don't want you hurt more than you already are."_

She had to move fast, and luckily it only took an instant to summon the necessary power. In the following split second the Tamaranian princess had leapt into action; searing rays of bright green energy lanced from her eyes while twin bursts launched from her hands, all while she half-jumped, half-flew forward. The four targeted guards let out pained shouts as they were slammed backwards, crumpling uselessly to the floor, their guns flying askew. The bullets from the remaining guards blasted angrily past her, one of them skimming her shoulder, and Starfire drew in a sharp breath and spun around, still soaring through the air, and shot another pair of starbolts. The energy caught the guards in the chest, knocking them back off their feet and into the wall, and they slid down, knocked out cold.

Chalk up two points to hope. Too bad it didn't always work that way, she thought as she landed safely past the sprawled, unconscious guards.

Relaxing her stance, feeling the adrenaline draining gradually from her body, Starfire allowed the glow to fade from her eyes, the darker emerald returning. She checked her shoulder, which had a thin red line across it, but it was not bleeding heavily. She disregarded the minor injury and focused her attention on what still lay ahead of her. A bright red chain-link gate was across from the now-doorless doorframe, and a small panel was stuck in the wall next to the gate. Walking up to it, she determined that it was an elevator, and she poked the button that opened the gate. It slid open creakily, and she stepped inside, allowing it to close once more. The elevator jerkily descended, and she found herself wondering where the music was before she reprimanded herself. Of course there would be no elevator music in this particular elevator. What was she thinking, anyway?

The elevator lurched to a halt, causing Starfire to lose her balance and fall against one of the sides. She shook her auburn bangs from her eyes and loosened her grip on the metal grid, shoving the door open and stepping out. She was in a large room, lit from the ceiling by several fluorescent lights, giving the place a washed-out, pale look. Oddly enough, the elevator stopped on a platform above the floor, and she clambered down the metal stairs that were so steep they were nearly a ladder. Boots echoing hollowly on the cement floor, Starfire walked carefully over to the massive piece of machinery that squatted in the center of the room. Serpentine pipes erupted from the square body and twisted and burrowed into various sections of the ceiling, clearly leading to different levels of the facility. As she stared at the sadistically complex machinery hooked up to the reactor, she wished that Cyborg were here. He would certainly be able to dismantle the thing in no time at all, and safely, too. But he wasn't here, and she was.

Scanning the array of keyboards and dials and gauges one last time, looking for a helpful label such as "Self-Destruct: Do Not Pull This Lever", Starfire took a few steps back and scrutinized the generator. Destroying this would cut the power to the rest of the facility and hopefully—there was that _hopefully_ again—cause a chain reaction which would take out the entire place. That left the little problem of what she would do to get out, but…no plan ever was perfect. All she knew was that to save her friends and everyone else, this place had to go.

Holding her hands close together, Starfire charged up a gigantic starbolt, the entire room flooding with the lime green light. Her eyes narrowed to glowing slits, and she focused on the center of the machine, where all the pipes originated.

"_Long enough to be forever."_

"And now it is," she muttered to herself, letting out a shout as she launched the combined starbolt towards the reactor, creating a continuous stream of lethal green energy. The starbolt struck home, and the reactor exploded outwards from that point, sending debris and flames flying in every direction, the gases in the pipes igniting and spiraling upwards in a fiery wind.

Propelled into action, Starfire rocketed to the elevator, ripping the sliding gate free and throwing it aside carelessly as she rushed inside. She pounded the "up" button, but when it did not respond instantaneously, she charged up another starbolt and blasted a hole in the ceiling, flying through just as the fires shot into the elevator. As she streaked upwards, the explosion engulfed the elevator shaft right on her heels, and she only had time enough to blow out the door at the top before the force of the flames caught her and threw her, spinning head over heels, into the room with the unconscious guards. Slamming full into the far wall, she staggered back a step, the walls and fire spinning in her vision, before she crumpled to the floor in a broken heap and everything faded to a merciful black.


	2. Everlong

Disclaimer: has anything EVER been mine? NO. so nothing ever WILL be mine. so i will make this my all-purpose disclaimer and have it carry-over to all the future chapters as well. since i'm lazy and really don't want to have to rewrite it over and over and over again.

A/N: if you're confused by this chapter...think for a few seconds and all should become clear. and remember that patience is a virtue. the next chappie should (hopefully) be rather massive, as it has quite a bit to cover, and so it'll take awhile to update. but exams are over!! cheer with me!! and now read, enjoy, and review!!

**How Long Is Never?**

**Chapter 2**

"_Hello_

_I've waited here for you_

_Everlong."_

_--"Everlong", Foo Fighters_

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Eyelids slitting open, she examined the sight before her with blurry vision. The ceiling was fuzzy and purple and rather close, and the curtains were dangling upwards, sunlight peeping through the tops…oh, wait. Rubbing the heels of her hands into her eyes, Starfire blinked several times, and the world orientated itself properly again. She was lying as per usual on her circular bed, her head lolling off the edge, and her distorted view was that of her bedroom in Titan's Tower.

Beep. Beep.

Mumbo alarm clock. Pulling herself smoothly into an upright position, Starfire glanced around the lavender-oozing room, locating the noisy device on the dresser across the room. One eyebrow arched as she read the time, certain that it was somehow lying. Tossing her covers haphazardly aside, she flew over to the object and picked it up, as if by examining it more closely she could determine the source of its lies. But she could not argue with cold, hard fact.

"12:46!! PM!! X'Hal, I have done the 'sleeping in'!" Starfire exclaimed to herself, thoroughly bewildered. She had never slept later than ten o'clock in all her seventeen years, and now this. She frowned faintly. She must have been incredibly tired if she had let her alarm ring for over three hours straight. Clicking the alarm off, she set the clock back down, combing her fingers absently through her long auburn hair. The Titans were probably having lunch by now. As that thought rambled through her mind, her stomach growled impatiently, and she quickly put a hand to it.

Sliding on her tall boots, the teenage superheroine floated to her door before she remembered her small pet. "Silkie!" she called, looking around expectantly for the fat maggoty mutant. But it did not show itself, and Starfire only waited a moment more before she walked out, yawning luxuriously as she made her way down the hallway to the elevator. As the machine descended, she hummed along cheerily to the boring music playing quietly in the background. She had always liked elevator music, ever since she had heard it being played in an elevator in one of Jump City's scrapers of the sky. Pleading with Cyborg to install similar music had been the work of one pout and one promise of a month free of Tamaranian cuisine. She giggled quietly to herself just as the elevator doors opened with a small _ding_, and she burst out.

"Good mor—er, I mean, good afternoon, friends!" she exclaimed, her eyes closed in her thrill of pure joy. "Is it not the most glorious day for all things sunny and bright?"

Following the total lack of response, Starfire cracked one eye open, arms still extended above her head. The common room was deserted, and the Tamaranian girl walked into the kitchen, searching all possible sticky-notable surfaces for such a sign, but there were none to be found. Her expression saddening considerably, she tugged open the fridge and extracted a bottle of her favorite beverage—mustard. Unscrewing the top, she popped a bendy straw in the opening and commenced drinking the yellow goo, her worries instantly disappearing in the onslaught of tangy golden goodness.

She has sucked that container dry and was rummaging in the fridge for more when she heard a familiar deadpanning monotone.

"Tell me…have you ever tried ketchup?"

Starfire jumped up, grey poupon in hand, and squealed at a register that caused her fellow Titan to wince reflexively. "Friend Raven! You are here! But where are the others?"

Raven quirked one violet eyebrow, the barest hint of a smirk on her face. "You mean, where's Robin?"

The other cast her gaze down, pretending not to hear, and asked innocently, "Why is this particular mustard labeled 'poupon'? Does that have some special meaning? Is it extra delicious?"

Raven stared levelly at the Tamaranian for a moment before she rolled her eyes. "I don't pretend to have every scrap of information on mustard memorized, Starfire. Nor do I pretend to understand our taciturn, blockheaded leader, so don't expect any explanations from me."

"Explanations?" Starfire echoed, twisting the cap off the grey poupon and sniffing it gingerly. Wrinkling her nose in cute distaste, she replaced the cap and shunned that type of mustard in the back of the fridge. "About friend Robin? Raven, I know not of what you are referring," she rambled as she hunted for more edibles. "I have no mission updates to be briefed upon, and today is not my training day, and so I do not have any…"

"Forget it," Raven grumbled, expression barely flickering. "Clearly you're oblivious, and since I've heard ignorance is bliss, I'm not about to shatter that happiness for you."

"Your concern is much appreciated," Starfire replied absently as she spread chocolate frosting on the pepperoni slices she had commandeered from Cyborg's bin. She was about to pop one of the strange concoctions into her mouth when Robin waltzed into the room; distracted, the chocolate pepperoni ended up smeared on her cheek, and she gave a squeak of distress, hastily ripping a section of paper towels free and wiping her face.

Raven's eyebrow arched again. "Uh-huh," she commented, retreating to the far corner of the room and beginning her meditation, her mantra echoing in the quiet.

Robin walked over to the kitchen, digging in the fridge for the Gatorade. He poured himself a glass and leaned against the counter, sipping the blue liquid. "Whacha eating there, Star?" he asked in lieu of a normal greeting.

Starfire disposed of the soiled paper towel, appraising the peculiar combination of food. "Er…the frosting of chocolate and pepperoni?"

If Robin were surprised at all, he certainly didn't show it. "Really," he commented idly. "So today wasn't a good day for the mint frosting on the hamburger?"

"I am afraid we have run out of both mint frosting and hamburgers," she replied wistfully, creating a bizarre version of an Oreo with her pepperoni and frosting. "It saddens me greatly. That was quite a delectable combination."

"I bet it was," Robin said with a bit of a grin, and he raked his gloved fingers through his hair. Starfire watched the motion as if mesmerized, questioning for the seventeenth time in the past week when he had grown as tall as she. Or was he taller? She couldn't quite tell…

"Do I have a blue mustache or something?"

Starfire snapped from her daydream, blinking rapidly. "I—what? A blue mustache…?"

"From the Gatorade," he prompted, completely serious. "You were…"

"Oh, no, there's nothing there," she assured him swiftly, and for lack of a better follow-up, she crammed another pepperoni-chocolate-Oreo in her mouth. _How obvious can you be?_ she scolded herself soundly, forcing her reluctant throat to swallow the bizarre concoction that no longer tasted so good. She glanced between the pepperoni and frosting and at last shoved both back in the fridge, though she wasn't entirely certain if frosting belonged in the fridge or not.

"Not hungry?" Robin asked with a wry smile, still suavely sipping his Gatorade.

"It was…how do you put it? Better in theory," Starfire decided, gripping the fridge handle more tightly than was necessary to keep her hand from shaking. Stupid Boy Wonder. How dare he act so calm and nonchalant when here she was, practically shivering out of her skin…

"DUUUDE, I _totally_ beat you!"

"I don't think so, ya little grass stain! I crushed your sorry green—"

"No way! You blasted me with that dumb cannon of yours! That's so against the rules!"

"Stankball _has_ no rules, BB!"

Starfire, thankfully distracted from thoughts of that infuriating—perfect—boy, watched in amusement as Cyborg and Beast Boy attacked each other verbally before going all out with the couch cushions, smacking each other clear across the room before they laughed, picked themselves back up, and charged again. It was making a horrible din and before anyone could have suspected, both the half-robot and changeling were suspended in mid-air, encased in black energy.

"What have I told you about fighting in the common room?" Raven ground out in a threatening monotone, one eye twitching spasmodically.

"Um…not to do it?" Beast Boy hazarded a guess, his arms and legs spread-eagled in the most ridiculous position.

"And what were you doing?"

"Um…that?" Beast Boy guessed again.

Starfire could've sworn she heard Raven mutter, "Brain the color and size of a pea" before the black energy melted away and the other two Titans collapsed to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Beast Boy grumbled something, doubtless about Raven ruining their fun, but Cyborg whacked him upside the head and suggested a Stankball rematch, which had them racing outside once more. The Tamaranian girl smiled, amused by her friends' antics, before she glanced accidentally (or so she told herself) back at Robin. And there, on his upper lip, was blue residue from the liquid. Before she could control her action, Starfire had reached over and carefully brushed the Gatorade away with the pad of her thumb.

Robin's eyebrow arched, and she giggled nervously, drew her hand back slowly, and offered her only explanation.

"Blue mustache."

He opened his mouth slightly, as if he were surprised and about to reply, when the communicator attached to his belt blared into life, beeping out the familiar tone. He frowned then and unclipped the device from his belt, flipping it open and absorbing the information inside, his frown deepening as he read on.

"Guess I'll finish this later," he sighed, wedging the bottle back in the door of the fridge. "We've got a problem downtown. Let's go get Cy and BB and get outta here."

Starfire nodded, lingering for a moment in the kitchen as she watched him walk away. She had waited so long…and she wondered how long she would be forced to wait. Exhaling her own deep sigh, she followed Robin and Raven from the common room, dragging her feet heavily.

Today was not a good day to have to save the world.


	3. What Hurts the Most

A/N: hooray for updating and three day weekends!!

**How Long Is Never?**

**Chapter 3**

"_What hurts the most  
Is being so close  
And having so much to say  
And watching you walk away  
And never knowing  
What could have been  
And not seeing that loving you  
Is what I was trying to do."_

_--"What Hurts the Most", Rascal Flatts/Jo O'Meara_

If anything, Starfire was exceedingly grateful that Cyborg had insisted that they all take the T-Car—Robin included, who was not nearly as relieved as she, since he preferred his R-Cycle. But she was merely glad; well, not _glad_. She wasn't _happy_, in any sense, and that was the root of this entire problem and her…her relief. Hadn't she told Raven that one time that flight required unbridled joy or something to that effect? And at the moment there was nothing she felt less than unbridled joy. Not even bridled joy. Just…something.

She frowned slightly to herself, her pout reflecting in the window as she leaned her forehead against the cool glass, staring out at the rain. When had it started raining, anyway? Or had it been raining all day and she simply hadn't noticed it? A small sigh escaped her, and a little patch of moisture formed on the window. She stared at it for a second before she wiped it away.

"Star, are you okay?"

She blinked, dragged from her dismal thoughts, and turned her head to face Beast Boy, who had asked her the question. He was watching her with some concern, and she felt a twinge of gratitude. At least _some_one noticed her enough to realize that not all was right. She glanced into the side mirror, catching Robin's reflection, but with his ever-present mask, she couldn't tell if he were remotely interested in Beast Boy's comment or her condition. He probably wasn't. Stoic and silent and taciturn and reticent and every other synonym for those: that was the Boy Wonder. Yes, Starfire though, it was a wonder that the black and white mask he wore over his eyes was poor in quality compared to the one he wore over the rest of him. He let nothing in and he let nothing out. X'Hal knew she wondered about him enough.

But she forced a smile for Beast Boy's sake and tried to think of something happy, like kittens and pudding. She felt her lips stretch in accordance with the desired expression, but she knew, knew, _knew_ that the smile never reached her somber emerald eyes.

"I am fine, friend Beast Boy. Why do you require such knowledge?" she asked in a characteristically cheery and naïve accent.

"I dunno, Star. You're just all…quiet. And you don't tend to be quiet. Heck, you being quiet is practically as weird as me being quiet," he joked, chuckling at himself.

"Perhaps equally as weird but a great deal less desirable," Raven intoned from Beast Boy's other side, her own gaze fixed obstinately on the blurred pavement.

"Yeah, right…" Beast Boy agreed with a grin that slowly faded as the truth of her words dawned upon him. "Hey…did you just insult me? Raven, that's not nice!"

"Since when am I 'nice', Beast Boy?" she muttered, violet eyes never moving from their position.

"Oh, good point," the changeling agreed, forgetting all about Starfire and his previous questions, his usual infinitesimal attention span well used up.

The T-Car skidded to a halt then, and the Tamaranian princess glanced at the dark skies before she opened the door and stepped into the downpour. She was instantly drenched to the skin, her bangs hanging limp in front of her eyes, but she made no move to warm herself or dry off. The rest of the Titans piled out behind her, Cyborg taking extra care to ensure the safety of his beloved vehicle. When he had finished with every conceivable security device, he turned to the de facto leader, raising his one eyebrow.

"So where's the baddie, Rob?" he asked, wiping rain from his robotic eye.

"Please say you didn't just have a sudden desire to get us all soaking wet," Raven grumbled from beneath the sanctuary of her hood, her cloak pulled tight about her small figure.

Robin shook his head, pushing a gloved hand through his now un-spiked hair and moving it away from his face. "Of course not. Bank robbery at the Ninth-Seventh Bank." He pointed his finger at the building a few dozen feet away and on the opposite side of the street.

Beast Boy's face crumpled in confusion. "Are you serious? In the middle of the day? Who does that?"

"Clearly someone who does not observe the proper protocol for the thieving," Starfire observed with as much as her usual innocence as she could muster. But she had known that today was not going to be a good day to save the world, much less stop some petty robber, and she could not find cheer in the prospect of administering justice.

"Apparently so," Robin agreed, not so much as glancing at her. "Titans, go!" he yelled, and the five teens surged into action, Robin in the lead, drawing his bo staff. Cyborg kicked down the bank's door and Beast Boy leapt in, a very wet and snarling green tiger, fangs bared in a bestial grin. Starfire and Raven took to the skies, or at least nearer the ceiling than the rest, starbolts and dark energy summoned. Cyborg readied his sonic cannon and Robin struck an attacker's pose with his staff.

If there had been crickets, they would have chirped at precisely that moment.

"Um…can I help you?" said the confused and somewhat terrified-looking teller who stood rather uncertainly behind the counter. The few people waiting within the red velvet ropes all had roughly the same expression, and they certainly did not appear to be hostages or in the process of being mugged.

The Titans all relaxed, Starfire and Raven landing and Beast Boy transforming into a human again. Robin collapsed his bo staff as Cyborg's cannon turned into his arm, and the leader mouthed soundlessly for a moment before he managed, "What d'ya mean, 'can I help you'? We were supposed to be helping you! Where're the robbers?"

The teller glanced around nervously, as if expecting ex-cons to jump from behind the strategically placed potted plants bearing revolvers and canvas bags stamped with dollar signs. "Robbers, sir?"

Now Robin just looked angry, clearly infuriated with this miscommunication. "I got a distress call from the Ninth-Seventh Bank on Fairway Avenue! This is the Ninth-Seventh Bank, and this is Fairway Avenue! So where the hell did we get our signals crossed?"

The teller shrugged his ignorance. "I don't know. I didn't place a call to you guys. Perhaps it was a prank call by some immature kid. Your number's not exactly top-secret, if you know what I mean."

Robin had to admit that the teller had a point. 1-800-TEEN-TITANS wasn't too difficult to guess, although he couldn't imagine why the Titans would be prank-called with such specific information. As there didn't seem to be a problem, though, he saw no choice but to call the team off.

Raven quirked her eyebrow again. "Don't tell me that you really did just want to get us all wet."

Starfire studied their leader, whose shoulders slumped slightly. He didn't seem too enthused with the way things had turned out. It was just as well, she thought. She hadn't wanted to save the world anyway. "We are returning to the Tower, then, yes?"

He mumbled something to himself but nodded, trying to fluff his flattened hair and failing miserably at making it look much better. She watched him stalk past her, back into the rain, and contained her sigh. Perhaps, once they had arrived at the Tower again, he would be in a better mood and she could attempt to initiate some sort of lighthearted conversation. Elicit some sort of encouraging reaction from him. She almost laughed to herself—almost. She was not quite that bitter yet. Not quite.

The other Titans had already filed out, and she followed after them, trudging along slowly, dragging her feet through the puddles. Her sodden bangs were impeding her vision, and right when she was pushing them aside, she heard a loud, sharp noise, somewhat akin to thunder. But it was too short, too concentrated, and the next thing she knew, she was staggering to one side and slumping to her knees and experiencing a sudden, pervasive pain in her side. She saw the others looking around, apparently trying to discern the source of the mysterious noise, and then she saw Robin's head turn in her direction. She saw him start in shock and run toward her, and she vaguely wondered why. It felt like she had been bitten by a Tamaranian _Glorgl_-snake, which possessed one very long fang, and she looked down at her side. She stared at the blood for a long moment before anything at all registered.

Two more sharp sounds rang in the wet air, but before she could begin to understand exactly what had just happened, Robin was pushing her down and sweeping his titanium-alloy cape around them both and deflecting the bullets.

Bullets? Oh. The sounds had been gunshots, then. And the blood was from…

The pain came in a wave then, an overpowering rush that nearly caused her to retch, and her breathing became erratic and heavy and quick as she stared at her life seeping far too rapidly from the deep hole in her side. She had been shot, she had been shot…X'Hal, she had been _shot_…

"R-R-Robin…" she gasped out, tugging on his cape with one hand, the other clamping over her injury. She felt the warm blood welling inexorably between her slim fingers and running down her stomach, and the reality slowly began to sink in. Shot. Bleeding. Dying?

"Star, are you—oh…shit…" Robin began to say when he noticed all the red, and he trailed off before exploding. "Damn it, I wasn't fast enough! God, we have to…we have to…here…" he rambled indecisively before he tore his cape off and wrapped it tightly around her middle. He scooped her up easily in his arms and ran as quickly as he could to the T-Car, arriving just as Beast Boy landed; he had morphed into a bird in an attempt to locate the would-be assassin.

"Wha—" the changeling began, but Robin cut him off, sounding almost panicked.

"What're you standing here for, you idiots? Get in the damn car and let's go! Go, go, go!" he ordered, scrambling into the back seat with Starfire, still supporting her and now holding her in his lap. She felt terribly dizzy, and the world was starting to ease in and out of focus. At first she would have thought to blame the rain, but when Robin's face lost all clarity, she knew that it had nothing to do with the inclement weather. His voice faded along with his image, and the last few words she caught were his yelling at Cyborg to drive faster and faster and then some hurried whispers to her that she would be alright.

TTTTT

There was a pillow beneath her head. When did she ever sleep with a pillow like that? Her brow furrowed, and then her eyes slowly opened, allowing her to identify her unusual surroundings. Several machines, one of them beeping steadily, were to either side of the plain white bed, and she had a tube stuck in one arm and bandages secured around her waist. A sheet was drawn up to the bandages, and it was as she was trying to tug it up higher that she noticed Robin.

He was sitting—sort of—at her bedside, his head on the mattress, his hand loosely cradling hers. He was clearly asleep, provoking Starfire to wonder what on the Tamaran the time was. Of all the machines, there had to be a clock somewhere…there it was, small red numbers glowing in the dark.

3:46 am.

Well, then, that explained that. She settled back into the pillow, smiling at the sleeping hero. He was here; he was waiting for her to wake up; he was holding her hand. He had to care, then, didn't he? He just had to…whatever pain medications were dripping into her IV were inducing exhaustion, and a faint trace of her smile remained on her face as she slipped unconscious again, her fingers interweaving with his.

TTTTT

Tamaranians are fast healers, and when Starfire woke the second time at 2:21 the following afternoon, she was allowed to leave the infirmary and able to maneuver reasonably well. And in any event, she was in much better spirits. Despite the fact that Robin had disappeared by the time she came around, she was convinced that he had been drawn away by something essential, like eating or another mission, and that he truly did care. After all, her leader had fallen asleep at her bedside; that alone had to speak volumes of his affection.

With as much spring in her step as she could muster, Starfire scoured the Tower for Robin, but he was no where to be found. At last she considered that he might be on the roof, and with some difficulty, she scaled the stairs to the roof, lamenting that the elevator did not reach, for whatever odd reason. By the time she pushed open the heavy door at the top, she was considerably weary but completely overjoyed at spying Robin lounging near the edge.

He heard her approaching, and he seemed entirely surprised to see her up and about. He hurried over to help her walk, draping his arm carefully about her and allowing her to lean on him as he led her back to where he had been gazing out over the shimmering ocean.

"Thank you, Robin," Starfire murmured as she eased herself down, trying her best to mask the sharp intake of breath as she bent right at her injury.

"Oh…no problem," he insisted, leaning back on his hands and resuming his observation of the sea. "It's good that you're awake; you must be doing better."

"I believe I am, though I fear I still have a hole in me," she said rather lightly, given the circumstances, and laughed—but only a little, as it brought quite a bit of pain—at his brief horrified expression.

"Don't say things like that. Don't take it so jokingly," he told her sternly. "This is a very serious matter."

"I know, Robin, I know," she reassured him, shifting to a bit more of a comfortable position. They had sat in companionable silence for some time before she ventured, "So do you know who did this? The shooting or the prank call."

"I hardly think I would've troubled myself with a prank call when someone had tried to murder you," Robin said, causing Starfire to glow inwardly. He was merely trying to protect her, of course, but it was still her that he was trying to protect. "I have no leads," he continued. "All I know is that you were targeted specifically, since the assassin clearly waited for you to emerge. But why you, and why now…I don't know." He let out an exasperated sigh.

Starfire's small eyebrows ran together. It was very unlike Robin to be sitting and doing nothing when there was a potential killer on the loose. Usually he would be wrapped up in his research so much that physical removal would be required by the other Titans. Was it because this concerned her and only her that he was acting differently? Had he expected her to come to the roof and see him? Was he planning something wonderful? Now she knew she was taking massive leaps in logic and concluding conclusions that defied even massive leaps in logic, but she couldn't help herself. Having her life saved by Robin and then waking up to find him with her was too much for her long-contained, long-held feelings. So she cleared her throat and took a stab at bravery.

"Uh, Robin…I was…I was…"

"Mm?" he made a sound of acknowledgment, glancing sidelong at her.

"I was…" she trailed off yet again and forced herself to marshal her feelings and rally. She couldn't give up now. They were the best of friends, so this couldn't, _couldn't_ be that much of a stretch. "I was wondering about…us."

"Us?" he echoed, his gaze dropping to the concrete of the roof, pretending to be preoccupied.

"Yes, 'us'," she agreed, feeling much braver now that she could string two words together. "We are such good, good friends, Robin, and I had thought that perhaps…perhaps you and I could…er, what I mean to say is that, perhaps we could be…more." There, she had said it. If he couldn't pick up on that, she would have to seriously reconsider falling for him.

"More," he repeated, although this time it wasn't a question. More like a resignation. "Star…" he began, but then stopped, and ran his fingers through his hair, at a momentary loss. "I…you…no, we can't. We just can't."

She persisted. She had to. She had said too much to back down now simply because he seemed reluctant. "Perhaps not now, friend Robin, but someday, surely. Correct?"

He shook his head determinedly, still not looking at her. "No, Star. Not now, not ever. Never."

"Never? But…but how long is this 'never' of which you speak?" She was confused. He could not be asserting that he would never feel for her. How could anyone be so sure of their future feelings? And to pretend that he felt nothing now? Then why had he stayed at her bedside? Why?

"Long enough, Star. Long enough to be forever," he whispered, looking away completely, his head turned in the opposite direction.

Starfire stared at the back of his head. He could not be serious. He could not be flat-out rejecting her. He could not…he could _not_… "Forever? You cannot mean that. I will hope that you—"

He rose heavily to his feet, brushing imaginary dust from his pants. "Don't hope. All hope gets you is a chance to be disappointed and hurt. And I don't want you hurt more than you already are." He shook his head. "There is no 'us'. There has never been one, and there will never be one." He paused and then shook his head again before he turned on his heel and disappeared down the stairwell into the Tower.

Starfire sat where he had left her, trying to fathom why she felt nothing. She thought that tears would well in her eyes, that her throat would close off, that her heart would physically shatter and that she would not be able to breathe. But she felt none of those things. She felt nothing at all. She felt numb. Empty and numb. Empty and numb and left with a promise of a future equally bleak.

She did not know how long she had sat there, staring unseeingly at the ocean, before she finally broke down and cried. And she did not know how long she cried before she managed to limp back into the Tower and seek the nonexistent solace of her bedroom, curled up and helpless on her bed and drenched in the darkness of the night.

The never-ending night.


	4. Pieces

A/N: here we go, here we go again!!! read, enjoy, review!! emphasis on the 'review'!

**How Long Is Never?**

**Chapter 4**

"_This place is so empty, my thoughts are so tempting_

_I don't know how it got so bad_

_Sometimes it's so crazy that nothing can save me_

_But it's the only thing that I have_

_If you believe it's in my soul_

_I'd say all the words that I know_

_Just to see if it would show_

_That I'm trying to let you know_

_That I'm better off on my own."_

_--"Pieces", Sum 41_

Starfire sat rigid and impatient on the very uncomfortable bed in the infirmary, her jaw set and teeth gritted as Cyborg carefully removed the stitches from the now-healed gunshot wound. His mechanical fingers had sprouted an array of medical equipment, which she assumed had also been utilized to sew her up in the first place, and he was now finishing what he had started. She tried her best to ignore the very strange sensation of thread being pulled from her skin, but the only other topic occupying her thoughts was Robin. And she did not want to think about her leader…or, her soon-to-be _former_ leader. She contained a sigh. These past weeks had been agonizing, and that pain was definitely not due to her injury but rather the following conversation. It hadn't helped that Robin had then locked himself in his study and emerged only for meals and hygiene purposes, both occurrences few and far between. She didn't think that she could stand living here any longer: ignored by Robin and secretly pitied by the rest for Robin's actions or lack thereof. If she left and he followed, then he would have proved himself. And if she left and he did not, then he would have proved himself anyway. But she couldn't stay. She was useless as a Titan, anyway. No unbridled joy, no righteous fury, no boundless confidence. Just bitterness and poisonous anger and desolation.

"There ya go," Cyborg announced, tossing the thread away and scrutinizing the scar. "You're practically as good as new, Star."

"Thank you, friend Cyborg," she returned with true gratitude. Now that she was healed, she had no reason to hang around this place she had wanted to leave for weeks. Of course, Cyborg didn't know that. Nor did Raven and Beast Boy. Nor did Robin. He would be the last to find out. She had planned on only telling Raven, who was the closest thing—now that Robin had abandoned her—to a confidante that the Tamaranian girl possessed. But in due time. She wanted to pack before she went about delivering her secret goodbye.

Cyborg waved his hand, which had normal fingers again. "No prob, li'l lady. My pleasure." He left the infirmary, the door swishing shut behind his bulky form.

Starfire stared after him for a minute or so, running her forefinger unconsciously over the scar, which was nothing more than a very slightly raised line of tissue. Leave Titans' Tower? The prospect echoed hollowly in her head, sounding almost ominous. She had arrived on Earth and only ever been in Jump City, really, and had only ever lived in the Tower. But she supposed that the idea of living elsewhere on Earth should be nothing compared to the fact that she had lived on various planets with various degrees of hospitality, all of which had been relatively worse than here. How frightening could the rest of humanity possibly be compared to the Gordanians?

Running her hand through her long auburn hair and heaving a sigh, the Titan exited the infirmary and padded quietly down the hall to her room, pausing involuntarily on the threshold before she entered all the way. Soon she would be gone, and nothing would remain but a memory. How very depressing. She chastised herself inwardly for thinking such thoughts and busied herself with hauling her duffel bag from her closet. She unzipped the bag and placed it on her bed before she glanced around her room, wondering what she should take with her. What did one need outside the Tower anyway? And who would befriend her to show her the human way?

She scanned her room for such objects and bit her lip as she lifted her framed photograph of the Teen Titans from her desk. Cyborg was making peace signs with both his hands and grinning his very broad Cyborg grin; Raven was glaring sidelong at Beast Boy, who was trying to take up most of the picture, his arms spread wide and eyebrows nearly raised to his hairline; she herself was smiling happily and waving with one hand, the other tucked behind her back; and Robin was standing beside her, his arms folded comfortably on his chest, and sporting a suave smirk. Her teeth dug further into her bottom lip before she managed to loosen her grip on the frame and deposit it gently in the bag. Might as well keep some means of recalling the happy times.

She turned to her closet next, eyeing the few hanging, violet uniforms, symbols of her role as a Titan. Sure, the outfit was traditional Tamaranian dress, but it was recognized on Earth as belonging to one of the famous Teen Titans. Of which she would be no more. Continuing to think in this vein, she changed into an unassuming pair of jeans and a t-shirt, placing her current uniform next to the other ones. The rest of the "normal" clothes were stuffed in the duffle along with all the odds and ends she felt she'd need, and she zipped it shut resolutely. That was that. She pulled on a jacket and slipped on shoes and swung her bag onto her shoulder, heading for the door once she was ready. She turned the light off as she left, sneaking down the hall to Raven's room.

Glancing around furtively, hoping desperately not to be caught by any other Titan, Starfire knocked softly on the door, not wanting to attract undesired attention.

Raven's voice issued from within, sounding as annoyed as her monotone could. "What?"

"Please, it is I, Starfire. I request the permission of entrance."

There was a slight delay, and then Raven cracked the door open enough for the other girl to venture inside. The empath closed the door immediately, her violet eyes narrowing as she appraised her friend's unusual apparel. "Any particular reason you decided to conform to the greater part of teenage girl society?" she inquired.

Starfire glanced down at her clothes before meeting Raven's gaze squarely. "Indeed, there is. I…I am…" she paused and rallied herself. "I am…leaving."

One dark eyebrow arched. "Leaving?"

"The Tower. The Titans. Jump City." Starfire elaborated accordingly, her eyes dropping to her shoes. She didn't want to see any more of the emotion that had managed to find its way onto the normally stoic half-demon's face.

"What? Why?" Raven demanded as several books were encased in dark energy and flew violently across the room, slamming loudly into the opposite wall. Her jaw clenched momentarily as she fought to control herself, and she appeared to succeed, repeating more calmly, "When did you decide this?"

"A few weeks ago," Starfire confessed. "The day after I was shot."

"Something tells me you're not running for your safety," Raven observed, crossing her arms beneath her cloak.

Starfire nodded once, but she didn't feel the need to make any sort of explanation. "This is the goodbye, friend Raven…so…goodbye."

Raven looked at her levelly for a very long moment before she lunged forward and very uncharacteristically threw her arms around the incredibly surprised Tamaranian. "Don't expect to ever hear this again, but I'm going to miss you."

Starfire returned the embrace and drew back. "I shall miss you as well, friend. It has been glorious to partake in the spending of time with you."

Raven glanced down at her hands. "I trust when you get to wherever you're going that you're going to tell us, right? You're not going to just disappear entirely, are you?"

The other frowned slightly, her eyebrows slanting together. "I am not sure. I will probably tell _you_," she added, stressing the intended recipient of such information. "But I must go. I have far to go before I can do the sleeping. Goodbye, friend Raven."

"Goodbye, Starfire," Raven offered, pulling her cloak tightly around herself and telepathically raising her hood into place.

Starfire nodded and left with a wave, creeping down the corridors to the elevator. Once inside, she poked the "B" button, descending all the way to the basement. She entered the garage, bypassing the R-Cycle and the T-Car, and entered the tunnel that connected the Tower's island with the mainland of Jump City. Her footsteps echoed loudly in the silence.

TTTTT

Robin tried to massage his headache away, his fingers sinking into his temples as he studied yet another map of Fairway Avenue, struggling to locate the sniper's position based on the trajectory of the bullets. He didn't know what such information could do for him, but he wanted to know something, and this was all he had. The prank call and the attempted assassination were too convenient to be coincidence, and he was perfectly confident that they were related. He just didn't know how or why or who was the one connecting them.

He heaved a heavy sigh, his breath disturbing some of the papers on his cluttered desk. It didn't help that Starfire had been avoiding him. Of course, he didn't know why he expected her to not avoid him, after what he had said. But apparently he just didn't know a whole hell of a lot of things. He groaned, fingers biting painfully into his skull, and leaned his forehead on the desk.

Just then the door to his study slid open, and he looked up expectantly. It had to be her…

But it was Raven. She was standing there, arms crossed forbiddingly on her chest, eyes glaring from the shadow of her hood. Robin shrank back in his chair, feeling a great sense of foreboding settling in his stomach.

"She's gone," Raven nearly spat, the most accusatory she had ever sounded. "And it's all your fault."

Robin closed his eyes behind his mask, blocking out the world and shrouding it in familiar darkness. So she had gone, left the Tower, left Jump City and gone elsewhere.

Just as he had hoped she would.


	5. It's Been Awhile

A/N: i know i uploaded these right on top of each other, but this is such short chappie and rather filler-like that it seemed cruel somehow to post it later all on its own. plus i'd already written it. plus God knows when i'll get anything more up.

A/N the second: this contains references to London/Britain/British people. i have nothing against British people or London. in fact, i think it'd be really cool to live there someday and acquire the accent. so the somewhat-stereotypical references are not meant to offend in the slightest. good? good.

**How Long Is Never?**

**Chapter 5**

"_And it's been awhile _

_Since I could hold my head up high_

_And it's been awhile _

_Since I first saw you_

_And it's been awhile_

_Since I could stand on my own two feet again_

_And it's been awhile _

_Since I could call you."_

_--"It's Been Awhile", Staind_

It was a rainy, dreary day. Of course, it was always rainy and dreary in London. Except, as Starfire recalled, when she had finally purchased an umbrella—_then_ it had ceased raining until she had forgotten it in her flat one day, and then the pouring had recommenced. But on the whole, the constant clouds and near-unceasing drizzle rather failed to bother her. It was comforting, in a strange way, to hear the tap-tap-tap of drops striking the windows. It was always there, and she supposed that was the comfort of it. She could always, always, always depend on it to rain. She hadn't quite had that luck depending on other people in other places at other times.

She frowned, just at the corners of her mouth, and adjusted the position of her obnoxiously striped umbrella, angling it to shield her from the most droplets. She didn't like when her thoughts drifted to those memories; it wasn't like they had ever contacted her. It wasn't like _he_ had ever seen fit to come after her, to drag her back. He apparently hadn't cared enough. She didn't know why she had ever believed that he would in the first place. She was hopeless; that much she knew. After all this time, and she still cared.

Trying to force her thoughts to happier places, Starfire juggled her umbrella while she dug in her purse for her keys. They always managed to sink to the bottom, even though the purse was not large at all or filled with a surplus of things. She had concluded long ago that purses were an evil designed to torment human women, or at least designed with magnets in the bottom. One of the two. But she finally managed to fish the keys out—from the very bowels of the purse, as per usual—and went about rifling through them to find the one that opened her flat. And then in the keyhole. Like so. Turn, click, shove, inside.

She shook the rain from the umbrella before collapsing it, wrinkling her nose in an attempt to dislodge the stray droplet squatting there. That failed, and she brushed the raindrop away irritably with her hand. And sometimes she passionately hated the rain. All it reminded her of was the day she was shot after that stupid goddamn prank call. Stupid prank callers. She dearly wanted to find that kid on occasion and beat the crap out of him. Her frown deepened as she scaled the stairs, winding up and up until she reached her third-level flat, which was actually the fourth floor. British people never counted the first floor, for some bizarre reason. She never bothered to question it; she merely accepted it. Like she had accepted that the Titans wanted nothing to do with her after failing utterly to express any care about her absence. She had, at the very least, expected Cyborg to do something. He was such an older brother to her; certainly he would be the hyper-protective one. But no. Nothing.

Not even a call to tell her whether or not her would-be murderer had been caught. Some friends.

Her mood steadily worsening, she shoved another key in the door to her flat and nearly kicked the door down. What she needed was some tea and a book and a reprieve from memories. She almost laughed bitterly. Tea. She had been in London far too long.

Hooking both umbrella and coat on the peg by the door, the former Titan kicked off her waterlogged shoes on the way into the kitchen section of her one-room home. It was small, and she had assumed (before living there for as long as she had) that she would never get used to not living in a royal palace or a fancy Tower. But then she had found out that she could get used to anything, that anyone could—rejection being high on that list. Rejection by the one person she had thought would always be there for her. Oh, _that_ had been fun.

"How long is never, Robin?" she mocked herself as she filled a cup with water and stuck it in the microwave. Cheap tea. "Oh, I don't know, Starfire. Why don't you go look up the definition? It's only _so_ bloody obvious…" she trailed off angrily, wondering briefly why she thought it fitting to reopen old wounds. Nevermind the gunshot scar. She had more scars than that one, and they ran far deeper and ached much more.

The small _ding_ of the microwave dragged her from her dismal recollections and reminded her that in the present, she had some tea to steep. Having done that, she wandered over to the window, nursing the steaming cup. She gazed out at the dreary, darkening sky, watching the sheets of rain lancing from the heavens and collecting in the streets below. It was cold in the flat, so cold that it seemed more like November than March. March seventh…wasn't that someone's birthday? Her frown deepened considerably as she stared out at the rain. Today was one of those days when she hated the rain.

She slumped down on the edge of her bed and was reaching for the half-finished novel on her bedside table when she realized that the light was flashing on her answering machine. So she had messages. She poked the button but then stood up, not wanting to sit in one place. She was too restless, for whatever reason. Hopeful, perhaps? After all this time? No.

"Tuesday, 6:36 PM…" the mechanical voice of the answering machine droned as she detoured into the kitchen and sat herself down on the counter. She kicked her feet for awhile, wondering why the message did not play. Her eyebrows slanted together and she began to walk back to the machine when it started speaking again.

"Tuesday, 6:38 PM…" Click. A hang-up. How pointless. Why bother calling anyway?

And then… "Tuesday, 6:42 PM…"

"Starfire…sorry about the last two messages. I kept forgetting what I was supposed to be saying, and then Raven got all mad at me. But anyway…we need you back at the Tower. Something's come up, and it concerns what happened to you before you left." The recording of Beast Boy's voice paused, only static sounding for a moment. "We _all_ want you back. See you soon, then. Bye."

The twenty-two-year-old stared at the silent machine before reaching down and poking one of the buttons.

"All of your messages have been erased."


	6. Hate Me

A/N: angsty angst will now ensue. and there is very bad swearing up ahead, very bad swearing. so if you're offended by that kind of thing, either get over it or read something else. and as ever, read, review, and enjoy the buckets of ANGST :D

**How Long Is Never?**

**Chapter 6**

"_Just make a smile come back and shine just like it used to be_

_And then she whispered, How could you do this to me?_

_Hate me today_

_Hate me tomorrow_

_Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you_

_Hate me in ways_

_Yeah, ways hard to swallow_

_Hate me so you can finally see what's good_

_For you."_

_--"Hate Me", Blue October_

The shadows hung thickly in the cramped, disorganized, and altogether cluttered crime lab of the Titans' Tower. Only one small, pathetic desk lamp dared to defy the darkness, its cone of light glaringly bright against the surrounding black. It wasn't at all conducive to getting rid of one's headache, but Nightwing thought that staring at lines of newspaper and research for hours on end probably actually created the migraine he was now trying to avoid.

Throwing his black-gloved hands up in momentary defeat, the leader of the no-longer-teen Titans rose to his feet and strode purposefully but silently from the room, rubbing his temple wearily. So he had announced he had made a breakthrough last week about the cold case of Starfire's attempted murder—if only he had been able to follow up on that brief and vague exclamation. Sure, he had found some frightening and suspicious parallels between this thing and the other thing, but was it enough? It seemed as though he had the pieces, but right when he thought he'd finally be able to see the picture, it was dashed apart once again. He groaned inwardly and wished that solving crimes was more literally like putting a jigsaw puzzle together: at least then he would have a picture to go off of. As it was, he had nothing. Nothing but a vague inclination, an uneasy premonition lurking in the pit of his stomach that whispered of ill tidings. Nothing concrete at all. Sometimes he found himself questioning why he had even bothered to tell the others.

Running his fingers through his slightly longer and no-longer-spiked hair, Nightwing strode past Beast Boy's room, catching a snippet of the ensuing conversation as he did so.

"—it's been a week, Rae. Come _on_. Just let me ca—"

"_No_. You will _not_ press this issue. It's not up to us whether sh—"

And then he was in the elevator, jabbing the down arrow and leaning back against the wall as the machine smoothly descended. He crossed his muscular arms comfortably, picking idly at the black material of his uniform, glancing down uninterestedly at the ice blue silhouette of a bird of prey splashed across his chest. It was the symbol of his new title, his new identity. He had switched from being Robin to Nightwing four years ago. Somehow "Robin" had been too cheerful, too colorful, too childlike for him those days, and he had been unable to look in a mirror without cringing at the blatant advertisement for Crayola crayons. Of course, it could have been because Robin had had _her_, and he had pushed _her_ away, and if anything, the Richard Grayson that he really was desperately wanted to forget about that, regardless of his good intentions. He had just…and now…his thoughts muddled, and he was relieved when the elevator doors slid open and he was allowed to escape his solitude.

Cyborg, as ever, was relaxing on the massive arc of a couch and watching the even more massive television, coolly flipping through the hundreds of channels. Nightwing walked over and lounged beside his friend and teammate, observing the rapidly changing channels.

"Nothing on?"

"Is there ever?" Cyborg grimaced. "Really, man, it makes ya wonder how Beast Boy spends hours an' hours just drooling over this thing."

"Beast Man," Nightwing corrected jokingly, a smirk twisting one side of his lips.

"Oh, like that little grass stain will ever be a man," Cyborg snorted. "I still can't believe that he wants us all to callhim that now. Beast _Man_. Riiight."

"Exactly," the other chuckled, amused and dragged from his usual dismal thoughts for a refreshing moment.

"Are you talking about me?" the changeling demanded, right on cue, as he and Raven entered the common area. He placed himself in front of the couch, directly in their line of vision, while the half-demon glided into the kitchen to prepare some herbal tea, ignoring the confrontation.

"Who? Beast _Man_?" Cyborg said innocently, although the inadvertent cackle that escaped him ruined all attempt at innocence.

"Hey!" Beast Boy erupted, flushing (which created a rather odd contrast to his green skin). "I'm not a teenager anymore, and even when I was a teenager, I was a legal adult! I want some respect, and I think I should start getting some around here. And what better way to do that than to change my name to something…more…befitting of my new, older status?"

"How about 'Beast Young Adult'?" Cyborg said with a straight face, which lasted all of five seconds before both he and Nightwing burst into gales of laughter at the ridiculous nature of the entire conversation and, indeed, the entire concept.

"Robin got to change his name!" Beast Boy burst after frantically grasping for comebacks for a few minutes, glaring fiercely at his friends.

That sobered Nightwing instantly. His eyes narrowed behind the mask, which hadn't changed, and he rose stiffly to his feet, towering a good few inches about the now-nervous changeling. "I'm not Robin anymore, got it? Don't say that name anymore. I don't want to hear it," he grated out from between set teeth.

But something rallied in Beast Boy, perhaps his animal instincts, and he refused to back down. "Well, _Robin_, maybe if you hadn't chucked Starfire outta here like she was useless—"

"Shut the hell up!" Nightwing yelled, his expression contorting in fury and something snapping within him. "Shut up! I said I don't want to hear it, so shut your fucking mouth!"

Beast Boy recoiled at that retaliation, apparently striking more of a nerve than he had anticipated, and glanced anxiously at Cyborg who was staring in shock as their leader quivered in anger. Nightwing continued breathing heavily, eyebrows rammed together, before he turned sharply on heel and stormed to the training room. He slammed the door behind him, the glass shaking in the door's small window, and began to take out his rage—mostly self-directed—on the punching bag. The heavy bag swung wildly as Nightwing beat his fists into it, emphasizing each blow with a short yell. How dare Beast Boy bring _her_ up. How dare he act like Nightwing—Robin, then—had _enjoyed_ doing it, had _planned_ on doing, didn't _regret_ doing it every minute of every day. But he had had to, he had had to…He could feel the tears stinging his eyes, and he blinked them back, channeling all his anger, all his emotions, into his fists.

The bag broke free of its chain, crashing to the floor, and Nightwing followed it, dropping down to his knees and continuing to pound and kick it. He beat it as if striking it enough would kill it, would cause some kind of effect that would ease his bruised and broken feelings. The tears seared his eyes again, momentarily blurring his vision, and he tore a birdarang from his belt and slashed the bag recklessly, viciously. And with every slice, he screamed in his head, _I'm sorry, Star. I'm sorry, Star. I'm sorry, Star. I'm sorry, Star…_

The bag was finally rent beyond repair and further mutilation, and he sat back, his chest heaving from the exertion, and sweat mingling with his tears. She hated him…she had to hate him. How could she not hate him for rejecting her like that, ignoring her like that, pretending so damn hard that he didn't, couldn't care? He forced himself to control his breathing, forced himself to marshal himself into some semblance of order. But then again, she was supposed to hate him. That had been the point. Make her hate him so that she would leave, leave and…

He rose wearily to his feet, stowing his birdarang back in his belt, and decided that he would clean up the fluff and the torn shreds later. Some other day. When he wasn't feeling so much. His trudging steps brought him back to the common room, even though he didn't want to encounter Beast Boy. He didn't want to apologize. He didn't have the energy, emotional or physical. So he ignored his teammates and sluggishly went to the fridge and pulled out his usual beverage of choice, blue Gatorade. He drank it in eager gulps, as if he could drown the memory that surfaced just then, of _her_ wiping away his "blue mustache" of the liquid's residue. That was now so long ago…

The double doors to the common room slid open, and all the Titans glanced up to determine who was paying them a visit. Beast Boy cried out and leapt to his feet in excitement; Cyborg gaped for a second before yelling, "Boo-yah, li'l lady!"; and Raven actually appeared to smile. Nightwing, though, was frozen in his lounge against the counter, unable to do anything but stare at _her_. At…Starfire. He saw her jade eyes sweep the room (he was surprised to find that he had recalled their color exactly) and settle on him for only the briefest of moments, yet he thought he detected a slight frown flash across her face. She looked the same, really, except that she still managed to look different. A little older, a little taller, and fully grown into herself. Her hair, he noticed, was the same length in the back but then in slight layers closer to her face and, for some reason, looked a few shades darker, and her bangs were longer and swept to one side. She was wearing normal clothes, just jeans and a white peacoat, and when she finally smiled, it wasn't the old trillion-watt smile. It was slow, small, and almost sad.

"Starfire!" Beast Boy exclaimed, doing a little dance in his excitement. "You're here! I didn't think you were coming! I mean, after we called you and all—"

"You _called_ her?" Nightwing interrupted, stumbling across his voice. "You asked her back _here_? Are you _insane_?"

Beast Boy paled and looked appealingly at Raven, who had lowered her hood and begun walking over to the long-lost Titan. The empath froze in place, apparently unable to respond to that wholly unexpected reaction from Nightwing.

"Why are they insane, Robin?" Starfire asked, her tired voice carrying the slightest hint of a London accent, her head tilted to one side. The question almost sounded like her usual naïveté, but there was a biting, sarcastic undertone that was impossible to miss.

He simultaneously cringed at the name and tried to ignore how beautiful she was, especially after five years of absence. He couldn't let…he had to keep a level, level head…calm and level and…he couldn't do it. "What don't you people get?" he demanded, arms gesticulating sharply, glaring at all of them before singling out Starfire. "Bringing her back? And you! You were…you were supposed to stay _gone_!" he finished, infuriated, with an accusing finger pointing at her.

"Nightwing!" Raven, Beast Boy, and Cyborg gasped, goggling at him.

Those so familiar—still more beautiful, he thought unconsciously—jade eyes narrowed, and she walked down the stairs and across the common room until she was two feet from him, head tilted back so she could keep her icy stare fixed on his mask and the eyes behind it. "Supposed to stay gone?" she repeated, her voice all harshness and edges with a shade of incredulity. "I was _supposed to stay gone_? Well, I'm terribly sorry, Robin, but that didn't happen and here I am! So what are you going to do about it?"

Nightwing nearly took a step back. He had never seen this much…hatred directed at anyone from Starfire, ever. Not even her traitorous sister. And it was all he could do to keep himself from collapsing at her feet and groveling and apologizing until she took him back. He couldn't do that. He had to get her out, had to make her leave again…He took a firm grip on her upper arm and began dragging her forcibly back to the door. "I'm escorting you out," he ground out, restraining thoughts of how nice it felt to touch her again, even if it were through a glove and a coat sleeve. He felt the muscles in her arm tense milliseconds before she reacted.

Starfire wrenched her arm from his grasp, effectively standing her ground. "I left already, and I'm sure as hell not doing it again!" she spat, the ice gone from her eyes and replaced by fire. Flickers of the bright green flashed across but were contained; no eyebeams shot forth.

"Yes, you are!" he pressed through his tightly clenched teeth, making to grab her arm again, but she evaded him easily enough.

The other three Titans glanced at each other and, as if on cue, all sidled from the common room, leaving the remaining pair to duke it out however they so wished.

Starfire watched them leave but her glare soon enough returned to match Nightwing's. "I'm going to my room now," she announced and made to leave, clearly considering this conversation over.

"No, you're not," Nightwing countered, stepping in her way. "You don't—you don't belong here anymore! So _leave_!" he practically roared the last word.

That clearly hurt her, the anger faltering in the pain that now twisted her expression. She looked for a second like she would burst into tears, but she gathered herself somehow and attacked. "Oh, so I don't, do I? I hardly think that's your decision to make, Robin! You might have gotten me out of here before, but it's not gonna happen again. You can be as much of an egocentric jerk as you want, and you can yell at me until you're blue in the face. But I'm _not leaving_!" She tried to go around him, but when he caught onto her wrist, she threw a punch at him, which he caught also. "Damn it, Robin, let me go!"

He almost smirked, but he was too furious at himself and too entranced with her—such a strange combination—to force a smile. "I thought you didn't want to go, huh?"

"You know what I meant!" she cried, eyes now shining with yet-unshed tears. "X'Hal, I hate you!" That caused him to instantly release her wrists, and she smacked him hard, knocking his head to one side. He stayed like that for a long moment, his cheek stinging from the blow, before he straightened again.

"Don't expect for me to make you feel welcome," he half-threatened, turning away from her and heading for the elevator.

"Wait—you're letting me stay?" Starfire asked, confused at this sudden surrender.

"No, I'm not, but you seem pretty damn determined to hang around, and I can't seem to make you leave, so to hell with my intentions!" Nightwing vociferated, throwing his hands up. She just didn't get it, did she? Here he had been trying to protect her for all these years, and she had to show up again and place herself right in harm's way. Didn't she know he couldn't stand that? Couldn't function properly when he was worrying about her every second of every day? If she had just stayed away…at least he would've known she was safe.

She faltered, looking more confused, though that was swiftly replaced by an unreadable look, and she pushed past him, stepping into the elevator. He glared at her and entered beside her, pressing the appropriate buttons. The doors slid shut with a small _ding_ and the elevator began to ascend, the light music playing softly in the background. The tension was incredibly thick, building a wall on its own accord between the two of them, and it was all Nightwing could do to get his voice working again. He had to know if she were here because of him. Impossible as that sounded, he had to know, to determine if the hatred she professed to feel were real or if she were merely still angry that he had rejected her all that time ago.

"So why'd you come back? After five years?" he asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible even though his voice nearly cracked halfway through the question.

She didn't even glance at him, stubbornly staring at the wall. "Beast Boy called me and said that something had come up with the sniper. So I came back." Her tone was so hard and so unlike her that he almost winced.

"Hearing that your attempted murderer is about again would hardly convince anyone to come back here," he pointed out, watching the numbers of the floors change.

"Apparently I'm not anyone," she snapped as the elevator gave another _ding_, and they stepped out. She didn't so much as give him a second glance as she disappeared down the hallway and into her old room, even though he stood there motionless and watched her walk away.

"I am glad I could see you again, Star."

At least, that's what he _wanted_ to say.

But he didn't.

TTTTT

The door hissed shut behind her, cutting off the light from the hallway, only the smallest sliver peeping in through the crack at the bottom. Reaching for the light switch, Starfire flicked it and hastily shielded her eyes from the onslaught of brightness. Blinking behind her hand, she allowed herself to adjust before tentatively lowering her hand and glancing around. Purple bombarded her from all sides, seeming to magnify the light from the lamp, and she quirked an eyebrow. Oh, yeah. Her room was purple, wasn't it? She shook her head at her own forgetfulness and walked over to her circular bed, stripping off her coat and throwing it carelessly aside as she did so. She sat down, expecting to hear a protesting creak from the mattress, but when no such creak sounded, she recalled that had been her normal, rectangular, old bed in London. The room with white walls and gray skies and rain—not like here where there were violet walls and blue skies and the blindingly yellow sun, sun, sun. This was sunny California, after all. So how could it be so much drearier?

Flopping back on her bed, Starfire tugged a lavender blanket over herself, burying herself in the covers. The light was still on, but she had no heart to rise again and turn it off. She didn't know what she had expected—coming back here. Had she honestly thought that Robin (well, "Nightwing", now, she reminded herself. It would seem that the different identity she had encountered twenty years in the future with all that trouble with Warp had manifested itself quite a bit earlier than expected.), the same Robin who had rejected her once, would welcome her with open arms and tell her that he was sorry and that he never should have said the things he had said and done the things he had done and now that she was here, would she like to be his girlfriend and stay with him forever?

Laughing a forced, bitter laugh, Starfire dragged herself to her feet and flicked the light switch with more violence than was absolutely necessary. Bathed in familiar darkness, she crawled back into bed and wondered dismally if tomorrow would be any better, if Robin—she decided right then to refuse to call him "Nightwing"—would be any better. Because no matter what she had yelled at him, she did not hate him. If anything, she was as much in love as she ever had been, perhaps more.

And she did not find that comforting.


	7. One Headlight

A/N: read, enjoy, review, and all that good whatnot!! btw--while this might seem filler-like, it actually has great importance, so pay attention!

**How Long Is Never?**

**Chapter 7**

"_This place is old, feels just like a beat-up truck_

_I turn the engine but the engine doesn't turn._

_Well, it smells of cheap wine and cigarettes _

_This place is always such a mess_

_Sometimes I think I'd like to watch it burn._

_I'm so alone, and I feel just like somebody else_

_Man, I ain't changed, but I know I ain't the same."_

_--"One Headlight", The Wallflowers_

Starfire lay sprawled on her bed, the sheets uncomfortably twisted around her body, staring at her clock exactly as she had been for the past twenty-six minutes. Make that twenty-seven, she thought dully as the small red digits changed, now showing 5:48 AM. She thought at first to blame the time difference between England and California, but she always woke up early and blaming jet lag wouldn't very well change that. The slightest hint of dawn's pale light was visible beneath the violet curtains drawn across the floor-length windows, and she watched the light slowly creep across the carpet. Another day, another dollar. Whatever _that_ meant.

Frustrated with her inability to sleep, Starfire fought briefly with the blankets before she managed to free herself from their clutches and stumbled rather gracelessly to her feet. She felt like she ought to stifle a yawn, but no such yawn came, and she shuffled stiffly over to the closet, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she did so. She didn't need to scrutinize her reflection to know that she looked absolutely terrible. She hadn't slept, but she had tossed and turned fully clothed all night, and she desperately wanted to take a shower and perhaps wash it all down the drain. She flung open her closet doors, greeted with the sight of a dozen violet uniforms, and a frown tugged at the corners of her lips. Had everything she owned really all been purple? She pushed them aside aimlessly, not expecting to find anything, but as she shoved the purple ones about, she caught sight of her oldest outfit, the one she had worn upon her arrival on Earth, upon her escape from her captors. She pulled it out, fingering the black cloth. That was the only difference; besides the color, it was the same, with the addition of the gray armor that went underneath it.

She draped the garments over her arm and thought about towels. Weren't they kept in the bathrooms? Shrugging to herself, she closed her closet doors and trudged from her room, her feet heavy and not altogether cooperative. She was exhausted, after all. Finding the bathroom unoccupied, she flicked the light on and dropped her clothes unceremoniously on the tiles, rooting in the cabinet for towels. And as she had suspected, hers was the fluffy purple one. The other one was black and stamped with a blue "N". She shook her head. That boy—well, young man now, she conceded—was obsessed with monogramming everything. Some things just didn't change. She nearly smiled as she turned on the faucet, hoping that a shower would clear her head and improve her mood.

And in one way or another, the shower rather succeeded. At least, she could probably fall asleep now, considering that in the hot haze she had almost done just that until shampoo trickled into her eye and swiftly brought her back to her senses. But she was clean and warm and dressed in the old black uniform—she had neglected the ridiculous headpiece somewhere in her room—and she felt infinitely better. Well, maybe not infinitely, but better, at any rate. She dragged a comb through her long hair, which looked redder than ever against the black outfit, pronounced herself ready, and left the bathroom with a bit more of a spring in her step. She bounced slightly on the balls of her feet as she waited for the elevator to complete its descent, thinking that she would have time to become reacquainted with the Tower before the other Titans would bombard her with questions. She would have time to prepare. She would have time to…

She strode from the elevator and through the doors into the common room, sniffing the air gingerly, recognizing the scent as…pancakes. She froze uncertainly halfway down the steps, seeing Nightwing's back to her as he stood in the kitchen, presumably making pancakes. Of course. He had always been an early riser, just like her. Before, she had liked that fact. Now she didn't know what to think of it. But she swallowed her pride and resolved to act normal and controlled and certainly not breakdown like she had the other night; she really didn't want to go through that again. So she walked into the kitchen like she belonged and opened the refrigerator, looking around for the orange juice—her stay in London had familiarized her with customary, appropriate foods.

At the sound of the refrigerator door being opened, Nightwing turned around and almost started at seeing her straightening, orange juice carton in hand. "Hello, Robin," she greeted, turning to the cabinets and selecting a glass, which she then filled.

"Uh…hey," he stumbled over the words, blinking as if he didn't quite know what to make of her. He slowly faced the stove again, flipping the pancakes in the frying pan he held, almost not catching one of them in his unease.

"Pancakes?" she asked coolly, knowing that he was off-balance from her presence and enjoying that fact to no end. He was so rarely nervous, it was nice to be reassured of his humanity every once and awhile.

"Yeah…" he affirmed, staring at the golden-brown circles a little too intently. "Do…do you want some?"

"Sure," she chirped, finding two plates and handing one of them to him. He slid a few pancakes on that plate and then on the other, and they sat down at the table and commenced eating them. She had finished her breakfast and was about to rise before he finally spoke.

"Five years. That's a long time," he observed, masked eyes not meeting hers, fixed on his syrup-strewn plate.

"That it is," she acknowledged, drumming her fingers on the table, enjoying the little clicking noises her nails made.

"So…where've you been?" he asked, entirely fascinated with spinning his fork between his gloved fingers.

Starfire looked at him sharply, unable to believe her ears. He was asking her where she had been. He didn't know? What? "You…Raven never mentioned…?" And you never asked? she added silently, feeling her heart sinking. So he hadn't cared, then…

He shook his head, his fork abruptly falling to his plate with a clatter. "Nope. She just said that you'd left and gone away somewhere. I guess she didn't feel the need to elaborate on that one." He was silent for a moment before repeating, "Where were you?"

"London. England," she added, though she knew he wouldn't need the clarification. How many Londons were there, anyway?

His eyebrows rose, but that was the extent of his expression. "London. Wow. I thought you had a bit of an accent, and now I guess I know why. London," he echoed, leaning back in his chair. "Hm."

"Is that somehow intriguing?" she asked, arching one eyebrow.

"Not really," he replied casually, apparently having recovered his composure during their silent repast. "It's just…really far away."

"Yes," she confirmed, "it is."

Silence descended heavily on the two Titans, who were both wholly absorbed in their empty plates. At last, unable to bear just sitting there any longer, Starfire rose to her feet and cleared the table, stuffing their plates in the dishwasher, catching sight of the microwave's clock as she did so. A little after seven. Time flies when you're having fun. She saw Nightwing standing also from the corner of her eye, going to the stove, grabbing the frying pan, and sticking it carelessly in the sink. She stood where she was, hands resting on the counter, shoulders tense, and waited for him to speak. Somehow she knew he would.

"By the way you're dressed, I'm guessing that you're an official Titan again," he said quietly, leaning back against the counter a few feet from her.

"That would be the idea," she agreed, her shoulders tensing further, preparing herself for a possible attack. Would he snap at her again, tell her that she didn't belong, that she wouldn't be allowed to be a Titan again?

But he merely nodded, looking as though he were mulling something over in his mind. At last, he said, "You've been gone for some time. If you're going to be patrolling, you probably need to re-familiarize yourself with the city. Remember that people drive on the right side of the street and all that."

She cracked the slightest smile at his last comment, picking at something dried onto the counter to distract herself from what she wanted him to be suggesting. "I suppose I will. Don't want to get unnecessarily run over."

He laughed at that, even though it wasn't much more than a half-hearted chuckle. "Yeah, wouldn't want that. Well, there's no time like the present," he said more briskly, "and since I'm the only one up, I guess that makes me the tour guide."

"Indeed it does," the Tamaranian conceded, inclining her head slightly. Exactly what she had thought he would suggest. "Any reason you're being nice to me now?" She glanced up at him briefly, unable to read his expression.

He shrugged, one lift of his broad shoulders. "You're determined to stay, so I might as well."

She decided to accept that for what it was and not push anymore. X'Hal knew that his friendly exterior might be replaced by the furious one from last night, and that was a side of Robin that she did not want to see again anytime soon. "So how are we getting to the city?"

"Can you fly? Without being filled with unbridled joy and all that?" he inquired.

Starfire pushed away from the counter, walking from the kitchen. "You'd be surprised," she said in reply, hearing him following her. "I trust you're taking the R-Cycle? Or is it the N-Cycle now?"

He sighed. "It's the N-Cycle," he admitted, running a hand through his jet black hair. "But as I'm supposed to be giving you a tour, I think that'd be rather hard from the back of a motorcycle."

"What're you suggesting?" she asked almost suspiciously, knowing full well what his answer would be. Strange that she still knew him after all this time.

"Well, I figured that if you could fly, you could just fly both of us to the city and then we could walk or something like that. Or run, if you really prefer," he added in a half-teasing tone.

Starfire paused as they reached the giant "T" doors of the Tower's main entrance, glancing at him to try to determine his motives. But she couldn't really figure anything out, so she agreed to his proposition. Taking one of his gloved hands in her own, she forced herself to concentrate hard on the powers necessary to get her flying. Unlike the times she'd been practicing in London, though, she found it much easier now, and she had a feeling she could attribute that to Nightwing's hand clasped firmly in her own. They soared into the air, and a smile began to spread across her face as the wind whipped through her long scarlet hair as they flew over the bay. The sky had brightened considerably, and now the sun, though still close to the horizon, had cast its light across the sky, reflecting on the buildings' windows and the ocean's waves; the whole scene simply dazzled the eyes. And for those moments, she felt happy again. Five years was a long time never to be happy.

They landed easily in the downtown, which was already bustling with commuters on their way to work and children on their way to school, and two Titans dropping out of the sky on the lot of them caused a bit of a commotion. Soon the two heroes were surrounded by leagues of their adoring fans, who were all shouting and waving pieces of paper in the air in the hopes of an autograph.

"Isn't that Starfire? Is she back?"

"Yeah, it is, it is! Hey, Star, over here!"

"Star! Welcome back! Starfire!"

"Nightwing, can I have your autograph? Please?"

"Man, Star, why the new look?"

"Starfire, where've you been?"

"Yeah, Star, we missed you! We love you!"

Starfire couldn't keep a grin off her face as she graciously signed as many scraps of paper as she could; it was very good to know that the citizens of Jump City were glad she was back. It was a better homecoming than the Titans—well, Robin—had given her. Speaking of him, Nightwing wasn't signing anything and was instead standing rather close to her, almost protectively, and glancing around at everything at once, as if he were searching for something or someone. At length he took hold of her upper arm, tugging on it.

"Let's get outta this crowd, Star. Come on," he whispered, still looking around furtively.

"Oh, you're being ridiculous," she said dismissively, sending him sharp glare. He couldn't let her be happy in any sense, could he? Sometimes he was so…_Robin_ she could just scream. "It's harmless, honestly…autographs aren't going to kill me."

"Beast Boy called you in London about the old case, which dealt with a sniper who shot you, although I hardly think I have to remind you of that," Nightwing hissed, his fingers digging into her skin. "And now you're perfectly willing to stand around in broad daylight in the middle of a bunch of people who are very easily pinpointing your location. Harmless? I don't think so."

"Fine," she snapped, handing a paper and pen back to their owner and smiling apologetically at the rest of them. "Then let's get on with this little tour you insisted I take so we can get back to the Tower where I'll be perfectly safe and you can stop annoying me."

"You read my mind," he grumbled, and they pushed their way through the crowd, heading along a basic patrol route. As they walked down the streets, Starfire couldn't really see how Jump City had changed at all, at least not enough to merit a tour. She recalled the place well enough, and it wasn't until they got to the outskirts of the downtown that she noticed something unfamiliar. There was a new skyscraper there, right on the edge of the skyline and slightly removed from the rest of the buildings. It was the usual office-building type, but as they walked by, Starfire sneezed.

Nightwing leapt back as her starbolt-infused sneeze blasted a nearby bush to smithereens. "Shit, Star! Warn me before you do that!"

She sniffed, putting a hand to her nose to try to dispel further sneezing. "Well, I'm _sorry_ that I didn't predict that," she said scathingly, "but I think sneezing is typically considered a _reflex_."

"Oh, shut it," he muttered, both of their moods souring quickly, and it wasn't long after that they returned to the Tower. They shared another tense ride in the elevator before they parted ways once again, Nightwing to his study and Starfire to the roof, and they didn't see each other again for the rest of the day.

Starfire pretended that she didn't care and preoccupied herself with being happy that she wasn't sneezing anymore.


	8. Blurry

A/N: been awhile, hasn't it? let me say this: i HATE school!!!!!!!! with a passionate passion!! but on with the show! and btw, for all you people who are like, "where's warm bubbly Starfire?" uh...really sorry with this chappie. i have too much fun delving into the depths of characters, and this chapter's certainly no exception. hope it's worth the wait!

**How Long Is Never?**

**Chapter 8**

"_Everything's so blurry _

_And everyone's so fake_

_And everybody's empty_

_And everything is so messed up."_

_--"Blurry", Puddle of Mudd_

"Hey, Star! Isn't it a…a glorious morning?"

Starfire blinked, halfway through stepping through the sliding doors, as Beast Boy hailed her from the squashy, crescent couch. She could not for the life of her figure out why he had greeted her in such a way for a long moment; then, though, she recalled that it had been her own salutation. How times had changed, she mused, too tired to be disgusted.

"Yeah, Beast Boy…I suppose it is," she offered with a weak smile, taking a quick survey of the common room before she moved into the kitchen, relieved that Nightwing was nowhere to be found. If he weren't around, then she couldn't run into him, and perhaps all would pass in relative peace. Well, at least breakfast would pass in relative peace.

She had only just dropped two slices of bread in the toaster when Beast Boy scampered over, bobbing about like some over-eager, adoring fan. She adjusted her black skirt and cocked a small eyebrow at him. "You want something?"

The changeling's expression fell considerably, his arms hanging limply at his sides. "Come _on_, Star. What's happened to you? You leave for London, and when you finally, finally, _finally_ come back, you're all…argh!! And…raahh!!!" He paired the yells with ferocious expressions and truly evil-looking hand gestures. "What did the Europeans _do_ to you?!"

She couldn't quite contain a laugh at that last outrageous statement. "The Europeans did nothing to me," she assured him, laying a hand lightly on his shoulder for a brief instant. Her attention was soon distracted, however, by the toaster regurgitating the now-toasted bread. She scooped the pieces up, wrinkling her nose upon discovering they were rather burnt. Oh well. She tossed them on a plate regardless and after grabbing strawberry jam from the cabinet, took her food over to the table. Beast Boy followed her like a faithful hound (which he very well could have transformed into). "Actually, they were all very polite and nice. You should go there sometime."

Beast Boy's eyes lit up, but then he apparently remembered his objective, and he sobered. "So…then why are you so…un-Starfire-ish? You just got up and left that day, without a word to anyone but Raven (and God knows that she's not one for lots of conversation!), and disappear for five years! What…why…why did you go, Star?" He was looking at her pleadingly now, green eyes wide.

She sighed, her exhale disturbing her bangs and sending a few auburn hairs upwards. She did not want to discuss this with Beast Boy; nothing against him personally, but she didn't want to discuss this with _any_body, period. So she dodged the question, careful not to look him in the face. "I don't know, BB," she said quietly, hoping the use of his nickname would dissuade him. Show him that a little bit of the old Starfire still remained, buried somewhere, waiting to be found again.

"You're not getting out of this one," Beast Boy said firmly, shaking his head and demonstrating unforeseen maturity and restraint. "Star…we're worried about you. Me and Cy and even Raven, though you could never tell with her. Is…" he paused, chewing on his lower lip, one of his fangs exposed. He heaved a sigh, fingers drumming momentarily on the table, stilling them before he looked at her as squarely as he could manage with her avoiding his gaze. "Was…" he corrected the tense and continued, "was it because of…Robin?"

The piece of toast was scorched beyond recognition as Starfire accidentally loosed a starbolt while bringing the bread to her mouth. Beast Boy leapt back in alarm, but she merely set her jaw and lowered the blackened crisp to her plate. She hadn't been very hungry anyway. She made to rise but the changeling grabbed onto her forearm, arresting her flight.

"No, Star," he said very seriously, his fingers tight and his expression resolute. "We're not gonna let you run off and hide. You're a part of this team again, and that means we watch out for each other. And what better way to watch out for one another than in a delightful game of Stankball?" he concluded with a grin, wiggling his eyebrows for added comic relief.

"BB…" she couldn't quite keep a mirroring grin from twitching at the corners of her lips. "I really don't think Stankball will—"

"Stankball can fix anything!" Beast Boy declared confidently, surging to his feet and pulling her along after him, toothy smile plastered onto his green face. "Cy!! Raven! We have a fourth player! Let's get this game going!" he called to their teammates, who were lounging on the couch and hovering in a corner, respectively.

"Oh, goody," Raven deadpanned, regaining her feet and lifting her hood into place. "A childish game played with a ball of repulsive socks. How could that _not_ fix anything?"

"C'mon, this is a game, y'all!" Cyborg said, sending the angriest glare he dared in Raven's direction. "It's supposed to be fun. We're supposed to be happy and laughing and running around like a bunch of idiots! And while we all know BB does that anyway, let's—"

"Hey!! That hurts, dude!" Beast Boy whined, stamping his foot down in a very childish manner indeed.

"Let's go before anyone else gets insulted," Starfire commented glibly, rewarded with a trio of broad smiles for her display of humor, however sarcastic it might have been. Raven's smile vanished quicker than thought, but Cyborg and Beast Boy's remained firmly in place as the four Titans wandered out of the Tower and onto the open area of the island normally used for training.

"So how does one play this game?" Starfire inquired, squinting in the sunlight.

"Easy enough," Beast Boy replied, lifting the sick-smelling sphere like it was some sort of trophy. "The playing area is divided in half, like so—"he drew an invisible line across the center of the flat area "—and one pair is on that side, and the other on this. You'll be on my team, Star," he added with an obnoxiously obvious wink. "And, basically, the only object of the game is to somehow—I stress the 'somehow'—get the Stankball from one side to the other, short of carrying it over. So kicking or throwing or…whatever."

The Tamaranian frowned slightly. "But how do we amass points?"

Beast Boy chuckled. "Star, there _are_ no points!"

"Of course there are. Otherwise you could not complain of losing so often," she retorted with a bit of a smug smile.

Raven choked on her laugh, turning it into a relatively innocent cough.

Cyborg stepped in. "There're no points, but you can lose. Whoever destroys the Stankball loses. Easy as pie. Speaking of pie, I'm hungry. What say we take a break and—"

"No, Cy, we're gonna play," Beast Boy said in an almost reproachful tone, hefting the ball in the air. "So let the games begin!"

Raven and Cyborg hurried to their half of the area, and Starfire took her position next to Beast Boy, settling into a crouch. The changeling smacked the ball like he was serving a volleyball and it instantly fell apart, scattering socks everywhere.

"Oh, BB, you lose!" Cyborg crowed from the other side, placing his hands akimbo and chortling deeply.

"Well, this is pointless," Raven observed.

Starfire lifted a particularly nasty sock from her shoulder and tossed it aside. "It would seem that the game is over."

"No, no, it's not!" Beast Boy protested, and he searched the area wildly for an appropriate substitute. His quick eyes settled upon a real volleyball, and he had snatched it up and returned before Raven could even walk halfway back to the Tower. "Rae, get back here! We'll play with this instead!"

"That's hardly a Stankball," Cyborg said critically.

"Nobody cares," Beast Boy snapped and heaved the volleyball in the air as before. "Fore!" he yelled as he struck it, clearly confusing this bizarre game with golf.

Cyborg apparently had no real issues with a non-stinky ball, and he dived on his metallic stomach, hitting the ball up before it even struck the ground. The volleyball whizzed far to one side, but Starfire was there, twisting in midair and giving the ball an almighty kick. It plowed back into the other side, bouncing up before Raven sent a whip of black energy to catch and chuck it directly at Beast Boy's head. The changeling ducked sharply, realized his error, and turned into a cheetah, chasing the ball down and pouncing on it. He morphed back to his human form and jogged into place, grinning widely, his fangs showing fully.

"Didn't I tell you this was fun?"

"May we never doubt you again," Raven muttered, waiting impassively, never moving as the ball was launched at her. Another whip of energy took care of it, and the volleyball rocketed back and forth with insane speed, the Titans all scrambling madly about the area to retrieve the ball. Some confusion ensued when both Beast Boy and Starfire went for the ball, and they crashed into each other as the ball rolled innocently to away. Beast Boy gallantly helped her up, both of them laughing uncontrollably as they dusted themselves off. They managed to send the ball back, though, where more hilarity occurred as Cyborg unscrewed one arm and used it as a baseball bat.

"Home run!" he yelled triumphantly, raising his arm in the air, the other firmly clutched in that hand, and Beast Boy fell to his knees, mock-worshipping the android for his creativity. Starfire turned to fetch the ball, but she stopped in her tracks when she saw Nightwing holding it.

Beast Boy rose hesitantly to his feet, glancing at the other Titans before he cleared his throat and forced a cheerful, "Hey, NW! How about throwing that back here and joining the game, huh?"

The de facto leader shook his head once, palming the ball in one hand. "It's noon, team. Time for patrols." And with that, he turned on heel and headed back into the Tower.

Beast Boy pouted. "He ruins all our fun," he complained, casting a quick look at Starfire. She was standing as she had been, all the laughter fading from her face, replaced by the pensive expression that had become the usual. "But I guess that's that."

Cyborg ran a hand over his bald head. "BB, take the south side. Raven, east side. I'll take the downtown, and Star, you can take the north. Okay?"

She started, as if broken from a trance, and managed a nod. "Sure, Cy," she responded shortly, taking to the skies. Flying without boundless amounts of happiness was a great deal more difficult, but she had found it not to be impossible. It just required total focus, and she had found that she could only sustain it for relatively short distances. Once she crossed the bay, then, she landed in the north side of Jump City and began her patrol, monitoring her communicator for alerts and checking the usual trouble spots, which Raven had detailed to her the day before.

But nothing really was happening; there had been a mugger in an alley, but one starbolt had seen fit that he wouldn't be robbing anyone in the near future. She had just dropped him off at the police station and returned to complete her patrol. She strolled through the northern outskirts of the city, glancing up at the new office building as she walked past it. Right before she loosed an explosive sneeze, she felt her nose twitch in a familiar way. But since her sneeze had nearly razed a patch of grass out of existence, she forgot to wonder about the familiarity. Another sneeze tore out of her, and she hurried along; the apparent allergy ceased afflicting her soon enough, and she lowered her hand from her face.

She had begun moving south on the bayside of the city when a sharp _crack_ rent the air. It sounded almost like thunder, but it was too short and concentrated…she threw herself to the side, her bewildered eyes catching something burrowing into the pavement where she had been standing only moments before. That sound was familiar, more familiar than whatever caused her sneezing.

Gunfire. Her sniper had returned.

Starfire scrambled to her feet, head spinning in all directions to try to locate the sniper, hair whipping in her vision. And then another shot rang out, and another. She dodged blindly, the bullets impacting the concrete harmlessly, and yelled at the cowering passersby, "Get inside! All of you get inside! Move!"

The people needed no more pushing, fleeing into the nearest building and leaving the Titan alone in the street. She pivoted on the spot, glancing around frantically. Calm down, she ordered herself, forcing her mind to regain order. Now able to think more clearly, she glanced around surreptitiously before kneeling down to examine the bullet holes in the sidewalk. She had moved down the street as she had dodged, and the bullets had somewhat skimmed the concrete, leaving long furrows, which occurred at steeper and steeper angles…meaning that her attacker was somewhere back before the first hole. Starfire soared into the air, crossing the street and scanning the tops of the buildings. There. Climbing down the roof-access ladder.

Focusing sharply on flying, the Tamaranian increased her speed, eyes glowing green as she zipped past the ladder and wrenched the sniper from it with one deft motion. He let out a cry of surprise, and she landed on the rooftop, throwing him down heavily. His rifle skidded away, and she landed on it, breaking it in two with a defiant stamp of her boot. He cringed upon witnessing such a display of strength and tried to crawl away, but to no avail. She was at his side in a second and grabbing his shirtfront with both hands and hauling him into the air. This was the man who had shot her five years ago; this was the man who had indirectly set the following events into motion. If he had never shot her, Starfire would have never opened her mouth, and Robin could never have rejected her. She would be happier; and this man…this man…something within her snapped then, something that had been experiencing far too much pressure.

"Why are you doing this? Huh? Why?" she demanded, giving him a violent shake.

He clawed at her hands, clearly trying to break her grip, but he failed at that too and only got shaken again. "God, stop! I don't know! I don't know! It was just a job!"

"A job? You're an assassin? Then who hired you?" Starfire ordered, shaking him so hard that his teeth literally rattled. His reticence only got him thrown back onto the roof, hitting the concrete hard. She charged up a starbolt and aimed it directly at his face, close enough so that he could feel the intense heat.

"X'Hal damn it, who hired you?" she repeated, eyebrows rammed together and eyes blazing.

But the assassin remained silent, though whether in defiance or fear was unclear.

"Damn it, answer me!" she yelled, visibly shaking, tears of rage forming at the corners of her eyes.

Just then a falcon dove from the sky, transforming into Beast Boy seconds before it struck the roof. The Titan ducked into a roll and sprang to his feet, eyes darting between his teammate and the sniper. "Star, what the hell—what the hell are you doing?" He ran over to her, jerking her arms behind her back, which was no mean feat. "This isn't like you, threatening anyone like this, even a criminal! What's going on?"

"Why are you here?" she spat, still angry and twisting in his grasp. She wasn't nearly as enraged as before, though, or she would have simply thrown him aside as well.

"I got a call, something about a sniper on Maxwell," he explained curtly. "But even if this is the guy who's been after you, Star…you…you don't _act_ like this," he repeated, unable to move beyond that.

Starfire felt her emotions go from shouting, violent rage to wracking sobs in the time it took for Beast Boy to finish his sentence. Her knees buckled, and she half-stood, half-hung from his grip as the tears poured unchecked down her cheeks. "Oh, X'Hal…I don't know…" she paused, choking for breath and repeated even quieter, "_I don't know_…"

Beast Boy caught her up, glancing worriedly over her head at Cyborg and Raven, who had arrived on the scene, alerted as well. Raven had imprisoned the assassin in black energy, and Cyborg's sonic cannon was in the process of returning to a hand. They both stared blankly at Starfire and sent questioning looks to Beast Boy. But the changeling could only shake his head in ignorance as one of his best friends broke down in his arms.

TTTTT

The Titans arrived back at the Tower, and Raven climbed out of the T-Car first, removing the assassin from the roof, where she had been holding him with her magic. Cyborg departed next after being reassured by Beast Boy that his help wasn't required. The changeling, though, stayed back with Starfire; while she had finally stopped crying, something of a weakness hung about her.

"I'm okay," she told her teammate, closing the car door resolutely as if that would sufficiently demonstrate her strength.

"Hardly," Beast Boy remarked, sliding his arm about her shoulders—he had grown quite a bit taller in her absence—and guiding her from the garage. True to his word, she leaned against him, walking with certain listlessness. Beast Boy could not imagine a time when he ever would have thought of Starfire as _small_, but now, like this, she seemed so incredibly vulnerable. Tamaranians were an emotional race, and to be under such emotional duress for so long had to be unbearable. He shook his head to himself and tightened his grip on her. If this really were all Nightwing's fault, he would rip that man limb from limb, leader or not, for willfully destroying one of his best friends.

As they entered the common room, Beast Boy glanced about, but there was no sign of the other Titans. They must be readying the sniper for questioning. He swallowed and chanced a glance at Starfire's face and was taken aback. He had never seen her eyes look both so full and so hollow. "You can go to your room if you want, ya know," he offered gently. "You certainly don't have to go witness the questioning. If you don't think—"

"I can handle it," she said quietly, emphatically. "Trust me, BB," she added, looking up at him briefly and smiling the smallest of smiles.

"Okay," he agreed, though he remained doubtful. He didn't think he had ever seen anyone go from total rage to total sorrow as quickly as she had, and he didn't think anyone who had done so should do anything but eat chocolate and watch comedies, but if she felt otherwise…well, she _was_ Starfire, and he wouldn't be able to persuade her otherwise. So he led her to the elevator, and they ascended to Nightwing's crime lab, where the sniper was being questioned. The door slid open with a sharp hiss, and the assembled Titans turned to see who had come. Cyborg started to his feet upon seeing Starfire.

"Star, whaddaya doin' here? You don't need to—"

"Stop worrying, Cy," she dismissed; even though the tone she used hardly held any authority, the half-android still silently obeyed, taking the seat across from the sniper again.

Beast Boy protectively managed to keep her half in the shadows, a good distance from the prisoner. The only light was the glare of Nightwing's desk lamp, and Nightwing himself was standing beside the table, his hands propped upon it.

"Tell us who you were working for," Nightwing apparently continued, "and we'll tell the police to soften your sentence a little."

Beast Boy blinked. Yeah, right. Nightwing looked like he was about to kill the sniper bare-handed, not lessen his punishment.

"No! I can't!" the sniper insisted, glancing between Nightwing and Cyborg's hard, set faces frantically. "They promised I wouldn't get hurt; that if I did this, I would be spared! I can't rat them out—they'll kill me!"

"Trust me, you're safe here," Cyborg said, clearly anticipating some remark to the contrary from Nightwing, who did indeed look rather menacing.

The assassin shook his head again, obviously not trusting them in the slightest. Beast Boy felt Starfire tense against him, and he rubbed her arm comfortingly, praying that she would be able to keep herself together.

"We can take you to the police right now for attempted murder and endangering innocent people by shooting off a gun in public! Do you really want us to do that?" Nightwing said, his voice rising in volume.

The assassin quailed at the Titan's fierce tone, glancing between the leader and the half-robot again nervously. "If—if you keep them away from me…"

"We'll do our best," Cyborg stated, slanting Nightwing a warning glance.

The sniper nodded, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Fine, then. They said they were from a place called…TestCom. That's all I know."

"Were you instructed to only attack Starfire?" Nightwing demanded, more anger creeping into his voice.

Beast Boy felt more than saw her look up at that, but he still caught a glimpse of her expression: surprised that she was mentioned, gratified, even.

The assassin stiffened, apparently anticipating the questioning over. He didn't look at the Tamaranian; his eyes were fixed on the floor. "Yes," he allowed.

"Why?" Nightwing ground out, a line appearing between his eyebrows, his jaw tightening.

"I don't know," he protested. "It was just what I was told, alright? Kill her; you others didn't matter. You weren't part of my contract."

"Just Starfire?" Nightwing pressed, fingers nearly digging into the metal table.

He nodded once. "Just her."

Nightwing straightened and made a sharp gesture to Cyborg. "Get him outta here and to the police. He's no more use to us."

The android nodded and with Raven's help escorted the sniper from the room. Beast Boy held his ground, Starfire watching the man go, and turned his attention to Nightwing. The leader of the Titans stood there, simply looking at the pair of them before he finally brushed by them, his face unreadable. It sounded like Starfire let out a breath she'd been holding, and Beast Boy tentatively steered her from the crime lab. "Let's go back to the common room, okay? I'll try to make you some hot chocolate, and all of us could watch a funny movie or something."

"Beast Boy…" she began, but he interrupted her.

"I won't take no for an answer," he said resolutely and with a ridiculously determined expression.

She sighed softly but nodded. "Alright. Although I'd prefer tea, really."

Beast Boy rolled his eyes. "First Raven, now you! Must be a girl thing."

Starfire nearly laughed at that, and Beast Boy smiled triumphantly as he led her away.


	9. Good Enough

A/N: another chappie!! all i can say is "wOOt!" enjoy and REVIEW!!!

**How Long Is Never?**

**Chapter 9**

"_And I'm still waiting for the rain to fall_

_Pour real life down on me_

'_Cause I can't hold on_

_To anything this good enough_

_Am I good enough_

_For you to love me, too?_

_So take care what you ask me_

'_Cause I can't say no."_

_--"Good Enough", Evanescence_

Before she even opened her eyes, all Starfire could think of was the awful crick she had in her neck. At last she blinked and found herself curled up on the crescent couch in the Tower's common room, her head angled uncomfortably against the arm. She frowned slightly and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, cracking her neck to one side as she pushed herself into a half-sitting position. And then something was thrust in her face that obscured her vision completely.

"Muffin?" she heard Beast Boy's voice ask, and the something came into focus, revealing that it was indeed a muffin.

She took it gingerly, noted it was blueberry, and slanted a questioning look at her teammate. "Why am I on the couch again?"

Beast Boy grinned his usual fanged grin, leaning his hands on the back of the couch. "You fell asleep, of course. Why else would you be here?" he laughed and added, "I guess we watched too many episodes of _Everybody Loves Raymond_."

Starfire made a sound that could have been a contained, derisive laugh. "Oh, yes. Everybody sure does love Raymond."

Beast Boy pouted. "Are you making fun of my taste in comedy?"

She rose gracefully to her feet, stretching slightly to ease the stiffness in her limbs. Tossing the muffin in the air, she caught it deftly and smirked at him. "Why, yes, I believe I am."

He looked like he was about to pout again, but then his fangs showed in the widest smile yet, and he exclaimed with obnoxious joy, "You made a joke! You're back! Just a little more sarcastic, but that's okay!" And then he quite literally threw himself at her, morphing into a small grin kitten right before he would've keeled her over.

Starfire giggled as Kitten-Beast Boy purred and nuzzled her arm. "Sorry, BB, but if you wanted any of this muffin, I'm not sharing. I'm starved."

It almost looked like the green cat pouted, but certainly that was impossible. It leapt away then, and Beast Boy stood before her once more. "So…whaddaya gonna do today? Huh? Huh?"

She shrugged, pinching a piece of muffin and popping it into her mouth. She continued eating as she meandered over to the massive windows, Beast Boy tagging along behind with an intensely curious expression on his face. Below, the ocean crashed against the rocky island, sending white foam high into the air. The water sparkled in the bright sunlight, all the waves reflecting, and she squinted against the brilliance.

"I don't know yet, BB," she finally replied, crumpling the muffin's wrapper into a ball. She frowned, just the corners of her lips pulled down, and picked at the wrapper, her eyebrows slanting together. "Honestly, I was planning on talking to Robin."

"Robin?" Beast Boy echoed, incredulous. His forest green eyes widened and his eyebrows rose so high they nearly vanished into his hair. "Why would you do that? All he does is upset you." An instant later he clapped a hand over his mouth, looking mortified that he had uttered such a thing.

But it was almost as if Starfire had not heard him; she stayed in the exact same position, picking at the wrapper in an automatic, thoughtless manner. At last she sighed and crushed the wrapper in her fist, opening her fingers hesitantly to stare at it again. "I know," she admitted quietly. "But…" she trailed off with a shake of her head. "He must know something about the sniper, and whatever TestCom is...and I'd really like this mystery to end."

"Well, yeah, we all do, but Star…" Beast Boy raked his fingers through his short hair, clearly searching for the right words. He dropped his arms in defeat, slumping against the glass. "Why did you go?"

She hardly needed him to elaborate that question; she knew exactly what he was referring to. And while she did not desire to explain her past motivations and her present feelings, she hated holding it all inside every minute of every day. She wasn't sure Beast Boy was the kind of person to spill her guts to, but he was here and he was willing to listen. And he was her friend, on top of the rest. He had something of a right to know. "Because of him," she confessed. "I left because of him."

Beast Boy shifted his weight, obviously a little uncomfortable with the direction the conversation would inevitably head, but his expression remained sincerely concerned. "Why?" he pressed.

She shook her head at nothing, staring out the window at the sky. "I…heh, it sounds so pathetic now," she said almost to herself. "I just knew that nothing would be the same after…after that day." She bowed her head, her hair slipping forward and creating an auburn curtain.

"What happened?" Beast Boy asked, not moving to see her face, respecting her privacy.

She let out a mirthless little laugh, her arms tightening across her chest, her fingers digging into her arms. "It's not so much what happened then…it's that I still…I…I…" she shook her head again and cast him a brief glance. "I still love him. And the worst part is that I've forgotten why."

Beast Boy looked completely sympathetic, even though it was clear that he had guessed that answer all along. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, gauging where to go next. "So why have you forgotten…this?"

"He's not Robin anymore. You know that," she replied, her voice somewhat wistful. "Robin was brave and kind and protective and maybe a little obsessive, but that was okay. Robin watched out for me; Robin cared about me; Robin explained everything to me, every dumb question I had. He was my best friend, and I thought…but now…" Her expression set, turning harder, almost mocking. "Now he's Nightwing. Nightwing's nothing like Robin. But I love him anyway—love the shell he's become."

"I'm sorry," Beast Boy offered lamely, unable to think of anything better.

"Don't be," Starfire whispered. "I've dug myself into this hole, and I have to get myself out." She smiled faintly. "You wouldn't happen to have a ladder, would you?"

Beast Boy chuckled and pulled her into an awkward hug. "It'll work out, dude," he said as he released her.

"Thanks, 'dude'," she teased, walking away from the window, pausing when he called after her.

"You're still going to see him?"

She nodded, brushing her longer bangs from her vision. "Have to do it sometime, don't I? Besides, I have a mystery to solve."

"Good luck with that," Beast Boy said honestly.

"Yeah," she agreed, disappearing from the common room.

TTTTT

Nightwing stared aimlessly into space, unable to keep staring at the sheets of paper laid before him on the desk. He had researched "TestCom" extensively, but he couldn't find any information that would suggest such a vendetta with a certain Tamaranian princess. In fact, all TestCom was was a computer technologies corporation located in Jump City. There was nothing insidious or shady about it—he had made sure of that. Criminal background checks on every single employee, down to the last janitor, and he still had come up empty-handed. If anything, TestCom was a convenient patsy for the assassin to name to gain freedom from the Titans. But then again, the sniper had then been packed off to jail to await his court date. So Nightwing couldn't see how that was a good thing.

And this was the kind of circular thinking that was giving him a pounding headache. The light from his one lamp was far too bright and the shadows around were far too dark, and the contrast was making his eyes hurt. He peeled off his mask and pressed his finger and thumb into his eyes, trying to massage away the tiredness. He had to find who was doing this, who had hurt Starfire, and make them pay.

No. This couldn't be about revenge. This had to be about justice.

But they hurt Starfire…

"Not like she could possibly want me anymore anyway," he grumbled, attempting to sway his vengeful thoughts. They stayed firmly in place, though, and only brought more thoughts of the one subject he had neurotically avoided—his redheaded teammate. He couldn't possibly explain to her why he had done what he had done. Or that he had never wanted "never" in the first place. And he couldn't possibly expect her to forgive him for all the horrible things he had done, for the absolute bastard he had been and still was being. She would never understand…he couldn't make her understand…

And there was a knock at the door.

He blinked at the sudden sound, starting in his chair. "Uh…who is it?"

"Starfire," came the reply.

His anxiety caused the smile to vanish from his face, and he hurriedly replaced his mask. "Come in," he said levelly, reverting back to Nightwing. He had been Robin, just for a moment there. He heard the door hiss open and light from the hallway flooded the small, dark crime lab. She stood in the doorway indecisively for a second, nothing more than a silhouette.

"Yes?" he questioned, rising slowly to his feet, his muscles sore from sitting hunched over for so long.

She stepped forward, and the door closed behind her, swallowing the room in black again. He more heard than saw her walk towards him until the lamp's light spilled across her slender form. "I was wondering about how much information you found."

"A lot of information but no leads," Nightwing answered, gesturing to his cluttered desk. "TestCom is clean. There's nothing to it except a bunch of computer geeks who fiddle around with circuit boards all day." He paused before venturing, "I have no idea why they'd want to kill you."

"Neither do I," she dryly replied, moving next to him so that she could review the evidence. In his mind, she had moved far too close…a few more inches and she would be touching him…her voice broke him out of his wandering thoughts. "So where is this place?"

"'Scuse me," he said, sitting in his chair again as she shifted out of the way. He clicked a few things on the keyboard of his high-tech laptop, calling up a map of Jump City. Enlarging the northern half with another click, he pointed at the screen. "This building, right here. That white building they put up several years back. Five, I think."

"Oh, that one? Makes me sneeze," she said with a hint of laughter in her tone.

"Really? The building makes you sneeze? Maybe you're allergic to geeks," he chuckled, amused at his own attempt at humor. It had been so long since he'd made a joke, and even longer since he'd made one in her presence. It felt good.

"Mm…if that were true, then I'd be sneezing up a storm right now," she cleverly remarked.

"Ouch," Nightwing said, unable to believe that they were having something of pleasant conversation. "That was vicious. Implying I'm a geek and all."

"It's true, though," she continued before sobering. "No, all I'm allergic to is metallic chromium. Nothing living."

"Maybe you have a cold," he suggested.

"Yeah…maybe I do," she mused half to herself.

They both stared at the glowing screen in the ensuing uncomfortable silence for some time before Nightwing's brow crumpled in thought. "Wait…didn't I know you were allergic to chromium? Hadn't this been mentioned sometime before?"

Starfire frowned, pondering that. "Oh! Yes, yes it was. That was eons ago, though. Back in the first year we were a team, something about Slade, I think."

Nightwing's expression darkened. "Right. He had that decoy chronotron detonator so that he could infect you guys with nanobots and make me his apprentice. No wonder I repressed that memory. Most unpleasant."

"Well, he's gone now, so he couldn't possibly be the one after me," she said in a reassuring sort of tone, but he was certain she wasn't actually reassuring him. Why would she? After a moment, she continued. "Are computer parts built with chromium?"

"Not that I know of," he admitted and added, "but if they were, you'd be sneezing because of this laptop. And every other computer in the Tower."

"Good point," she conceded, although she still looked confused. "But then why would TestCom make me sneeze?"

Nightwing frowned and rested his chin in his palm, fingers tapping thoughtfully on his cheek. "I don't know. I guess they must have chromium there, but there's no reason they should."

Starfire lounged against the desk, crossed her arms, and studied the screen with a raised eyebrow. "What's chromium used for, anyway?"

He shrugged. "I'm not entirely certain, but the only thing I know of _is_ a chronotron detonator. And of course some computer factory-place isn't going to be actively trying to destroy the world."

She nodded, and the silence resumed for a minute or so until she adopted a confused expression. "How long does it take to make a chronotron detonator?"

"No clue. I don't know how long Slade worked on his. But then again, his bomb wasn't even real, so it wouldn't have taken as long. Some time, though," he decided. "I mean, you have to get all the parts, and I daresay that getting enough chromium isn't the easiest feat in the world. And then you have to have the proper technology and an immense power source to charge it. Years, probably," he concluded with another shrug of his broad shoulders.

"Years? Like…five?" she suggested, uncrossing her arms so she could lean back on her hands.

Nightwing arched an eyebrow. "I suppose. Why five? The only thing that happened five years ago was that—"

"I left," Starfire anticipated. "And three weeks prior to that, TestCom had apparently attempted to assassinate me. Now why would they want to kill me, of all people?"

Realization dawned on the leader of the Titans, his mouth falling open. "Because you're allergic to metallic chromium! And since you're so famous, as a Titan, there're a million and one Internet sites dedicated to you, and all of them would be aware that you're allergic. It'd be ridiculously easy to find that out, and anyone intent on building a chronotron detonator would have to kill you before they could! It all makes sense now!"

"Didn't you say that TestCom was built a little less than five years ago? Because it wasn't here when I left, so they must have built it afterwards," Starfire added.

"Plus, that assassin confessed that he had done it because TestCom had offered him their protection from something—precisely a massive detonation that will stop time. Who wouldn't want protection from that?" Nightwing leapt to his feet, slamming his fist into his open palm in a determined gesture.

"What are we going to do?" she asked as she raced out of the crime lab after him, following him into the elevator.

"Obviously, we're going to go take out the detonator," he replied curtly as the elevator descended swiftly to the common room's floor.

"Obviously," she repeated with a roll of her dark emerald eyes, and she leaned against the wall, listening absentmindedly to the lilting, jazzy piano of the elevator music.


	10. How to Save a Life

A/N: i'm kind of on a roll! updating is good, yes? ha. this chappie actually is quite action-packed, so that should be good. not quite as angsty, really, as the others. read, enjoy, and REVIEW!!!!

**How Long Is Never?**

**Chapter 10**

"_Where did I go wrong?_

_I lost a friend somewhere along_

_In the bitterness_

_And I would have stayed up with you all night_

_Had I known how to save a life."_

_--"How to Save a Life", The Fray_

The Titans had piled into the T-Car in record time, since Beast Boy had conceded the front seat to Nightwing without his usual argument. A deep sense of urgency was churning in all of them, and Cyborg had nearly rammed through the garage door; there now were tire tracks on the floor. The lights in the tunnel beneath the bay were turned into long streaks of white, and as the T-Car zoomed up the ramp on the far side of the bay, the wheels left the street as it burst into the city, startling a flock of pigeons, which took quickly to the skies.

Starfire watched them fly away hurriedly, her temple leaning against her window, and let out a soft sigh. So this was it. This was what it all came down to: an epic mission to save the city from certain destruction…once again. The thought almost made her laugh. They could save millions of people they didn't know, but they couldn't save themselves from each other. The irony was sickening.

She felt more than saw Beast Boy glance over at her, but all the other Titans had been glancing at her more often than usual ever since Nightwing had explained what was going on. She didn't know why she was so much the center of attention; after all, the only connection she had was that chromium made her sneeze. She ignored her teammates and reflected on Nightwing's latest hypothesis. He had suggested that the prank call had been made by TestCom to lure the Titans to where the sniper was located; then Starfire could be easily picked off. Except, of course, it hadn't quite happened like that. No, it hadn't because back then Robin had cared and he had saved her life. Drawn his cape around them both and deflected the bullets that would have killed her. But he was a hero. That was what he did.

It almost seemed funny to her. TestCom had attempted to assassinate her so that she wouldn't be able to detect the detonator, but she had left shortly thereafter and hadn't been able to detect it anyway. More irony. As she reflected, she realized that there was nothing she hated more than irony. It twisted everything into a massive, ugly knot.

She stared idly out the window, noting that the white building had come into sight, and Cyborg pulled the T-Car to the side of the road, parking it. He still gripped the steering wheel tightly and asked, "So do we have a plan?"

Nightwing opened his door and got out, the other Titans following his lead. He closed the door soundly and gave a shrug. "Well, it's still a computer technologies facility. It's been exporting products for all the years it's been in business." He sighed. "This means that the detonator is probably a secret project, which then means that most if not all of the employees are innocent civilians who actually have no idea that their bosses are planning to destroy the city. With that in mind, they'll probably let us walk in the front door, and from there Starfire can lead us to the detonator."

Starfire looked at him, but he was studying the building with a critical eye. She crossed her arms almost protectively on her chest and nodded. "I can do that."

"Boo-yah," Cyborg said, much more sober than usual. It seemed like he said it because he was expected to do so.

Nightwing gestured with his hand, and the team fell in step behind him, approaching TestCom warily and scanning the area for signs of trouble. They had almost reached the front doors when the sharp crack of gunfire shattered the peace; Raven reacted instantly, throwing up a shield that descended in a hemisphere around the Titans. Tense and in battle crouches, they watched as a few more bullets pinged harmlessly off the black energy.

"They seem to have been expecting us," the half-demon commented, her usually violet eyes spitting with the same white fire that crackled in her hands.

"They're sure on top of things," Beast Boy added with a nervous laugh.

Nightwing pointed toward where the bullets had impacted the shield. "The shots are coming from over there. If Raven drops the shield and we just try to run for it, we'll be clear targets until we reach the doors." He looked at the changeling. "Beast Boy, morph into something small. Raven, drop the shield to let BB out, and then bring them back up. Beast Boy, take out the sniper. We'll have the shield up, and when you're done, come on back and tell us. Then we can proceed."

"Aye aye, captain!" Beast Boy said, snapping a flashy salute an instant before he shrank into a green mouse. Mouse-Beast Boy scampered to the edge of the protected area and looked back at Raven. She drew her powers into herself, the black energy disappearing as the transformed Titan scurried from out. Gunshots rang out again, but Raven had brought the shield back in the nick of time, and the Titans remained safe.

Nightwing began pacing, and Starfire watched him, knowing intuitively that he was worried about their teammate. He had ordered Beast Boy out, after all, and the old Robin had certainly always felt extremely responsible for the welfare of his team; it would seem that Nightwing was no different.

A bestial roar ripped across the silence, and they all tried to discern what had happened, but the black energy was fairly opaque and severely limited any observation. Cyborg ran a hand over his bald head and muttered, "Sure hope that was BB scaring the crap outta those baddies."

"He's fine," both Nightwing and Raven said simultaneously, curtly. Starfire studied the half-demon; she seemed nervous, which was saying a lot for Raven. The Tamaranian almost smiled. Raven had always had a soft spot for the hyperactive changeling. They would be a cute couple someday. Cyborg and Bumble Bee were already dating; she had found that out the day before. The only ones remaining unpaired were her and Nightwing. Her ephemeral good mood faded. Yeah, right.

Another minute slid by agonizingly slowly, all of them wondering what had happened to their friend, and suddenly something banged against the shield. The Titans fell into defensive stances before Raven lowered her shield, but when it turned out to be Beast Boy, they all relaxed. That is, until they saw his pale face and his limp.

"BB, what happened, man?" Cyborg demanded as they all rushed over to him.

Beast Boy grimaced, one hand held tightly on his thigh; blood was leaking through his fingers. "Apparently the first reaction to seeing a gorilla pop out of nowhere is 'fire gun now!'" He drew his breath in through gritted teeth and managed a shrug. "Just got my leg, though. I smacked him a good one for it."

"Can you heal him, Raven?" Nightwing asked quickly.

She shook her head. "I'd be healing the tissue around the bullet, and that would be worse than leaving him as he is. I'll have to remove the bullet first. You three go on ahead."

"Yeah, we'll catch up," Beast Boy assured them, waving them on with his free hand.

Cyborg looked torn, but Nightwing laid his hand on the half-robot's large shoulder. "Come on. We have a mission to complete."

He nodded after a moment, and the remaining Titans trotted the rest of the way to the doors, glancing around furtively as they entered. It was a fairly normal-looking lobby: there was a receptionist behind her desk and some potted plants and chairs scattered about. The trio exchanged raised eyebrows before approaching the desk.

The receptionist, a young woman with far too much red lipstick, held up a finger to signal that they wait as she listened to something on the phone. After a moment, she hung up and looked up at them expectantly. "Do you have an appointment?"

Starfire blinked and contained a grin. She could just imagine the answer to that: "No, we don't. However, we're going to barge in anyway and find the chronotron detonator you're hiding somewhere in this building and destroy it. Then we'll be on our way."

"We're the Titans," Nightwing told her, apparently convinced that statement explained everything.

The receptionist quirked an eyebrow as if to ask, "So?"

Nightwing shifted his weight to his other foot. "If you don't mind, we're just going to have a look around."

"Are you investigating? Don't you need a search warrant to do that, or do you think you're above the law because you're superheroes?" she demanded, obviously not about to let them snoop around.

Nightwing opened his mouth to reply to that, but his response was never heard because precisely at that moment Starfire gave an almighty sneeze. All the papers on the desk blew into the air as if a miniature hurricane had appeared in the lobby, and the receptionist toppled backward in her chair. Seizing their chance, the Titans excused themselves from the lobby and dodged into the elevator bank. Cyborg read the listing of the floors and groaned.

"Great, man. Where are we s'posed to go?"

The half-android and the leader looked at Starfire expectantly, who had her finger held under her nose in an attempt to prevent further explosive, reflexive actions. "I don't know!" she protested.

"Okay, okay," Nightwing repeated, pressing his palm against his forehead. "Logically, I don't think it'd be above us. That's probably where all the normal cubicles and whatnot are, not some top-secret plot to destroy the world. Let's try 'down' first."

"Alright then," Cyborg agreed, pressing the appropriate button. One of the elevators _dinged_ quietly, and its doors slid open; the three Titans rushed in and caught a glimpse of the enraged, askew receptionist an instant before the doors closed again.

"Which floor?" Starfire asked, eyeing the buttons curiously.

"A basement one, obviously," Nightwing said, looking at the panel. There were B1, B2, and B3 buttons, but next to them were keyholes; clearly not just anyone could access those levels.

"Now what?" Cyborg questioned. "Do you want me to try to jimmy the lock, or…?"

"We don't know how much time we have," Nightwing reminded him. "Just blast a hole in the floor."

"Boo-yah!" the android declared, sounding much more exuberant that time. His right arm switched into a sonic cannon, and the other two squished behind Cyborg as he aimed and fired. The wide laser shot a neat, steaming hole in the floor, just large enough to fit them through.

"Star, you go through first and get the closest door open," Nightwing instructed.

She nodded and eased herself through the hole, concentrating on flying as she floated down the dark elevator shaft. The door to B1 was easy enough to find, and she balanced on the slight ledge, cramming her fingers into the slim crack between the sliding doors. With a grunt, she forced them open, shoving them to each side. Once she determined that the doors would remain open, she flew back up to the hole.

"Cy, now you," she heard the de facto leader say.

"Gotcha," the other replied, and he lowered himself carefully. "You better catch me, li'l lady," he ordered her good-naturedly.

"I'll do my best," she teased him in return, and she caught him securely. They descended to the door, and she dropped him off. "I guess you should watch for guards."

"Can do," he affirmed, readying his sonic cannons as she returned to the hole, where Nightwing was gripping onto the edges and dangling there like laundry hung out to dry.

"Need help?" she asked tentatively, finding her concentration beginning to waver. She would need to quit flying soon.

"No," he snapped defiantly, but as he calculated the distance between where he was hanging and the door, along with the inconvenient angle, he grudgingly amended, "Yes."

"Okay." She forced herself up to his side, feeling more and more tired, and instructed him, "Just let go of the hole. I'll catch you."

He obeyed, releasing his grip and falling directly into her arms, his own wrapping around her neck. Unfortunately, all Starfire could think about then was how good it felt to be holding him and how warm he was, especially compared to the drafty elevator shaft, and her concentration was shot to hell. Suddenly they were in freefall, but Nightwing managed to keep his wits about him and launched a grappling hook. The device twisted around one of the beams in the shaft, and they jerked to a stop and went swinging haphazardly into the wall. He shifted his position and took the brunt of the impact; they bounced once, and then he redirected them to the door.

They rolled gracelessly upon landing and quickly separated from each other. Starfire noted that bittersweet thoughts would not allow flight, either, and then let out another ungodly sneeze.

Nightwing returned his grappling hook to his belt and brushed dust off himself. "Maybe you should stay here, Star. You don't seem well."

"I'm fine," she disputed, rising to her feet to prove her point. "I just don't fly all that well anymore."

He looked at her sharply, and she remembered that she had told him the nature of her powers a long time ago. His expression almost became guilty for a second, but he turned his head and she couldn't be certain. "We should get going. This way," he said, as if nothing had happened.

The Titans jogged down the corridor, turned the corner and paused in front of the door. A sign hung on it read "No Admittance Except Authorized Personnel" and they glanced at each other before Nightwing tried the knob; as expected, it was locked, but another blast from Cyborg's sonic cannon granted them entrance. They found themselves on a catwalk suspended above a massive underground room, large enough to be a warehouse. Across the catwalk was a collection of computer consoles, and below were more computers and complex machinery, and sitting in one corner, nearly one hundred meters away, was a tall, somewhat cylindrical object.

"That looks like Slade's detonator," Cyborg announced right before the people below took notice of the intruders.

"Security breach!" one of them shrieked, and the Titans barely had to time to react as guards dressed like SWAT team members flooded the room, both on the ground below and rushing from the door at the far side of the catwalk. The trio jumped from the catwalk, bullets following them down. They landed behind machinery and used it as cover, Cyborg and Starfire popping up and returning fire at the guards. They had gotten a fair few, but the situation wasn't improving greatly.

"What now?" Cyborg asked Nightwing, who was largely sitting out of the fighting, as he didn't have a great deal of far-range weapons.

"We need to get to the detonator," he answered, peering around the machinery and gauging the distance and various forms of protection offered between the detonator and where they were. It wasn't good: except for fleeing technicians and some rows of computers, there was no cover. But they really had no choice; they had to move.

"Titans, go!" he yelled, and the three of them sprinted to the nearest computers, throwing themselves behind as the guards opened fire. The computers were torn to pieces, and by unlucky accident, Cyborg was one of those computers caught in the line of fire. His chest plate riddled with bullet holes, he toppled backwards, frozen in position.

"Cy!" Starfire cried, launching a starbolt at the responsible guards and plowing them over and leaving them equally motionless. "Are you okay? Cy!"

"Got my motor functions," the injured half-robot gritted, his jaw frozen shut. "Fine, can't move."

"Robin…?!" she demanded, glaring at him. Now they desperately needed answers, and he was sitting there mute.

He swallowed, deep in thought, and glanced toward the detonator again. "Star, we need to take out the guards. We'll have to leave Cy here."

"Go," Cyborg managed, aware that he wouldn't be any use.

"Fine," she snapped, angry that they were leaving him vulnerable but unable to come up with any solution. She burst into the air and raked a continuous starbolt across the line of crouching guards on the catwalk; the metal grating and the guards were blasted away, and cries and crashes sounded as both hit the floor on the far side of the basement warehouse. Nightwing dashed out from behind the battered consoles and she followed him, blasting away the more distant guards as he took out those closest, striking left and right with his bo staff. They had more than one close call, but in the end, they managed to be the victorious ones. Not pausing to recover their breath, they dashed over to the detonator and rammed into an invisible wall.

Skidding backwards, they halted their momentum and regained their feet wearily, aching from impact with the unexpected obstacle. They approached more cautiously now, arms outstretched like they were blind. They encountered the invisible wall again, but it was pulsing and seemed to be made of energy.

"Some sort of force field?" Starfire guessed, pressing against it, but it would not yield.

"Looks like it," Nightwing affirmed, following it all the way to the wall. "I hardly think it's in place to keep us out, though; more likely they put it up so in case there was a problem with the detonator, it wouldn't take out this place with it. This is probably also the 'protection' that sniper was referring to," he added.

"How do we get past it?" she asked, stepping back and keeping a wary eye out for more guards.

"This is too much energy for the city's power supply," Nightwing reasoned out slowly. "They must have their own reactor. It probably fuels only this level, since I would guess that the rest of the building functions on standard electrical power." He paused, hands flat on the invisible shield. "I need you to take out the reactor. Normally I'd ask Cy, but he's useless."

Starfire didn't know why she voiced her next question. "Won't that be dangerous?"

"In all likelihood, yes, very dangerous," he said, his voice low, almost quiet.

And you're sending me off with no qualms about my safety? she wanted to ask next, but she refrained and merely nodded. "What will happen when I take out the reactor? Would that affect the detonator?"

With his back to her as it was, she couldn't tell what his expression was, but she saw his shoulders tense. "I don't know…it could. If the detonator is still hooked up to a power source, it very well could short-circuit the thing and make all hell break loose. But…" he trailed off, walking as far as he could around the detonator and checking it for plugs or cords, "it seems to be on its own power, even if it's not 'on'. Once you get the shield down, I'll be able to deactivate it for good."

She nodded again, unconsciously waiting. What for, she didn't know. An apology? A last goodbye? A good luck wish? A confession? She waited a heartbeat more and then headed for one of the doors, disappearing into the corridor outside.

Back inside, Nightwing bowed his head against his arm, which was still pressed against the force field. "Damn it, Star…be careful…"


	11. Forget It Again

A/N: this chappie should be familiar. obviously, i posted these two together because of the lack of newness. but i used a different verse of the song, and now it's actually chronologically correct!! and probably makes more sense! so hooray! read and REVIEW, my readers!!

**How Long Is Never?**

**Chapter 11**

"_It's a crime you let it happen to me,_

_I don't mind, I love it, easy to please,_

_Nevermind, forget it, just memory_

_On a page inside a spiral notebook."_

_--"Forget It", Breaking Benjamin_

Breathing heavily, Starfire cautiously peered around the corner, scanning the fluorescent-flooded corridor for any signs of life. There was nothing there; it was completely empty. Her mouth tightened into a thin, determined line, and the no-longer-teen Titan stepped into the new hallway, continuing to glance about as she crept along its metallic length. It unnerved her, the absence of guards. Certainly they must be _some_where, and why wouldn't the path to the reactor of the entire facility be under constant surveillance? It simply didn't add up, she thought to herself for the twentieth time. Something was not right here; something was not right with this whole place, for X'Hal's sake. Maybe it was all in her head, though. Maybe she was imagining danger where it didn't exist because she had been trained to always anticipate the worst.

She almost laughed bitterly to herself, but she couldn't quite summon it. Robin would be so proud: in the end, she had become like him. Paranoid and suspicious and single-minded. She couldn't help wondering for the briefest of moments if he had become like her, if he had ever learned to let others in, if he had ever decided that never was too long.

"_Perhaps not now, friend Robin, but someday, surely. Correct?"_

"_No, Star. Not now, not ever. Never."_

"_Never? But…but how long is this 'never' of which you speak?"_

"_Long enough, Star. Long enough to be forever."_

A slight frown marred Starfire's features as she arrived at the door at the far end of the corridor, and she shoved the memory from the forefront of her mind. She would not allow herself to be distracted by recollections of what he had determined should never change. Never. It was such a hopelessly depressing word. Checking over her shoulder, she tried the knob, but as she had expected, it refused to turn. Locked. She let out a small, impatient sigh. She had hoped to cause as little commotion as possible, and here they had to go and lock the door.

Reaching up, she wrenched the hinges clean off the top of the door and then bent down to get the ones at the bottom. She tossed the twisted metal pieces aside, straightened, and eyed the door once more, sizing it up. After a moment of thought, she gripped the knob with one hand and wedged her other fingers in the gap between the door's top and the door frame, and with a grunt and impossible strength, jerked the door free; the lock broke with a sharp _snap_. She set the broken door aside easily and faced the now-open gap, her small eyebrows rising sharply at what she saw on the other side.

A group of equally surprised-looking guards gaped at her momentarily before they recovered, sweeping their guns into position, and Starfire found herself staring down the muzzles of half a dozen assault rifles. Apparently she hadn't been paranoid and suspicious enough. Robin would never have been caught off-guard; he would surely have anticipated such a possibility. He would have known he would be facing death in the eye and he would have been able to think clearly.

_Robin…_

"Freeze!" one of the guards ordered, even though Starfire had not yet moved.

Starfire obligingly froze, forcing her thoughts into some semblance of order and surveying her enemies. Six of them: two for her starbolts, two for her eyebeams…still left two. Hopefully they would be shocked enough to allow her time to recover before they could do the same. Hopefully.

"_Forever? You cannot mean that. I will hope that you—"_

"_Don't hope. All hope gets you is a chance to be disappointed and hurt. And I don't want you hurt more than you already are."_

She had to move fast, and luckily it only took an instant to summon the necessary power. In the following split second the Tamaranian princess had leapt into action; searing rays of bright green energy lanced from her eyes while twin bursts launched from her hands, all while she half-jumped, half-flew forward. The four targeted guards let out pained shouts as they were slammed backwards, crumpling uselessly to the floor, their guns flying askew. The bullets from the remaining guards blasted angrily past her, one of them skimming her shoulder, and Starfire drew in a sharp breath and spun around, still soaring through the air, and shot another pair of starbolts. The energy caught the guards in the chest, knocking them back off their feet and into the wall, and they slid down, knocked out cold.

Chalk up two points to hope. Too bad it didn't always work that way, she thought as she landed safely past the sprawled, unconscious guards.

Relaxing her stance, feeling the adrenaline draining gradually from her body, Starfire allowed the glow to fade from her eyes, the darker emerald returning. She checked her shoulder, which had a thin red line across it, but it was not bleeding heavily. She disregarded the minor injury and focused her attention on what still lay ahead of her. A bright red chain-link gate was across from the now-doorless doorframe, and a small panel was stuck in the wall next to the gate. Walking up to it, she determined that it was an elevator, and she poked the button that opened the gate. It slid open creakily, and she stepped inside, allowing it to close once more. The elevator jerkily descended, and she found herself wondering where the music was before she reprimanded herself. Of course there would be no elevator music in this particular elevator. What was she thinking, anyway?

The elevator lurched to a halt, causing Starfire to lose her balance and fall against one of the sides. She shook her auburn bangs from her eyes and loosened her grip on the metal grid, shoving the door open and stepping out. She was in a large room, lit from the ceiling by several fluorescent lights, giving the place a washed-out, pale look. Oddly enough, the elevator stopped on a platform above the floor, and she clambered down the metal stairs that were so steep they were nearly a ladder. Boots echoing hollowly on the cement floor, Starfire walked carefully over to the massive piece of machinery that squatted in the center of the room. Serpentine pipes erupted from the square body and twisted and burrowed into various sections of the ceiling, clearly leading to different levels of the facility. As she stared at the sadistically complex machinery hooked up to the reactor, she wished that Cyborg were here. He would certainly be able to dismantle the thing in no time at all, and safely, too. But he wasn't here, and she was.

Scanning the array of keyboards and dials and gauges one last time, looking for a helpful label such as "Self-Destruct: Do Not Pull This Lever", Starfire took a few steps back and scrutinized the generator. Destroying this would cut the power to the rest of the facility and hopefully—there was that _hopefully_ again—cause a chain reaction which would take out the entire place. That left the little problem of what she would do to get out, but…no plan ever was perfect. All she knew was that to save her friends and everyone else, this place had to go.

Holding her hands close together, Starfire charged up a gigantic starbolt, the entire room flooding with the lime green light. Her eyes narrowed to glowing slits, and she focused on the center of the machine, where all the pipes originated.

"_Long enough to be forever."_

"And now it is," she muttered to herself, letting out a shout as she launched the combined starbolt towards the reactor, creating a continuous stream of lethal green energy. The starbolt struck home, and the reactor exploded outwards from that point, sending debris and flames flying in every direction, the gases in the pipes igniting and spiraling upwards in a fiery wind.

Propelled into action, Starfire rocketed to the elevator, ripping the sliding gate free and throwing it aside carelessly as she rushed inside. She pounded the "up" button, but when it did not respond instantaneously, she charged up another starbolt and blasted a hole in the ceiling, flying through just as the fires shot into the elevator. As she streaked upwards, the explosion engulfed the elevator shaft right on her heels, and she only had time enough to blow out the door at the top before the force of the flames caught her and threw her, spinning head over heels, into the room with the unconscious guards. Slamming full into the far wall, she staggered back a step, the walls and fire spinning in her vision, before she crumpled to the floor in a broken heap, everything fading to a merciful black.


	12. Cold

A/N: first, i have NO idea what's up with the formatting in the song. it's gonna have a heyday when i try to do two songs side by side for the next chappie, which, by the way, will be the last one. yeah, i know, you're all extremely depressed. the tears will be gushing down people's cheeks. personally, i'm going to be extremely glad because then i'll finally have the Teen Titans out of my head and i'll be able to concentrate on all my original work. but i doubt you care. and without further ado, the penultimate chapter! enjoy and REVIEW!!!

**How Long Is Never?**

**Chapter 12**

"_I never really wanted you to see__  
The screwed-up side of me that I keep__  
Locked inside of me so deep.  
It always seems to get to me.  
I never really wanted you to go,  
So many things you should have known,  
I guess for me there's just no hope.  
I never meant to be so cold._

_What I really meant to say_

_Is I'm sorry for the way I am._

_I never meant to be so cold to you."_

_--"Cold", Crossfade_

As he waited for Starfire to destroy the reactor, Nightwing crouched over his fallen friend, tinkering with the half-android's circuitry in an attempt to fix him. But Cyborg had been raked by at least a dozen bullets, and even with the muttered, half-intelligible instructions, he was unable to make any decent headway.

"Sorry, Cy," he said at last, sitting back in defeat. "We'll need to get you back to the Tower. You have a repair program there, right?"

"Ri'," Cyborg managed, blinking his human eye.

Nightwing nodded. "We'll hook you up to that, then, and you should be okay."

"BB?" the other inquired about their teammate's condition.

"I don't know," Nightwing replied. "He and Raven haven't shown up yet."

At that moment something thunderous emanated from below them; something that sounded like an explosion. The floor trembled and the bits of debris from the gunfire jumped about as if they had minds of their own, and the lights above flickered and went out, casting the entire underground room into the deepest darkness. A strange humming filled the air, and Nightwing looked around, trying to determine its source, and saw that the air in front of the detonator was shimmering, almost like heat waves rising from a highway. Suddenly that ceased as well, and the room was totally silent and totally black.

Nightwing fumbled at his belt, withdrawing a small flashlight (shaped, of course, like a black and blue hawk). He switched it on, the tiny beam slicing through the darkness, and he rose to his feet slowly, glancing around the room warily, as if expecting enemies to leap out of the shadows.

"I'm going to try to disable the detonator," he informed Cyborg. "Star must've destroyed the reactor."

"'Kay," Cyborg acknowledged, though he couldn't have done anything anyway.

His footsteps abnormally loud in the absolute stillness, the leader of the Titans walked over to the detonator, avoiding the shot-up computers and consoles littering the area. The force field was indeed down, and he was able to reach the detonator. He searched the smooth black surface with his flashlight for a panel of some sort that would hopefully lead to the machine's vital circuits. At last he found just such a panel, and he bit down on the flashlight, directing it at the panel as he pulled a miniature screwdriver from his belt, yet another one of his handy gadgets. It was but the work of a moment for him to remove the screws and set the panel aside. Behind it, now revealed, was a sadistic mass of wires, and they all pretty much looked the same to the common layman. Luckily for Jump City, Nightwing was anything but a common layman, and he replaced the screwdriver and chose a birdarang instead, scrutinizing the wires closely.

There. A pair of wires led from something that seemed to be part of the power source to something that definitely looked like part of the detonation device. His jaw tightening on the flashlight, Nightwing very carefully cut that pair with his birdarang. A small light began to blink on an unopened part of the detonator, and he watched apprehensively as it continued to blink, but then the intervals between each flash slowed and the light eventually failed. He let out a sigh of relief around the flashlight and stowed his birdarang back in his belt, removing the flashlight from his mouth right after.

"I think I got it," he told Cyborg, walking back over to the disabled android. "Time to get you out of here. More easily said than done, I fear," he added, recalling the Titans' unorthodox manner of getting down here in the first place. But regardless of future difficulties, he stuck the flashlight back in his mouth and crouched down, managing to get the half-robot onto his back in somewhat piggy-back style. He straightened with a grunt and began shuffling towards the exit Starfire had taken. It would most likely lead to an elevator, which he could then hotwire or something similar.

Before he got to the door, though, it burst open, and Raven glided in, gingerly holding something that was glowing faintly in her hand. "Nightwing? Is that you?"

"Yeah," he answered. "What d'you got there?"

"Beast Boy the Glow Worm," she explained with a tone close to disgust in her voice. "Change back," she ordered the worm.

Beast Boy obeyed and popped up in his human form. "Geez, NW, why's it so dark? Did you get rid of the detonator-thingy? Where's Cy? And Star?"

"The chronotron detonator has been disabled; Cyborg's on my back; and Starfire destroyed the reactor that was powering the force field preventing us from reaching the detonator," Nightwing reeled off, shifting his teammate's position to ease the tension a little on his shoulders.

"Dude! What happened to you, Cy? Why're you all not-working?" Beast Boy babbled, dashing to his friend's side and trying to see in the dimness.

"Cyborg got shot up a bit," Nightwing spoke for the half-android. "His motor functions were damaged. Hey, Raven, do you think you can get him out of here?"

She nodded beneath her hood. "I can ghost him out. Are you two coming with us?"

Nightwing shook his head. "I'll wait for Star to return. She should be back soon enough."

Raven nodded again and used her powers to lift Cyborg from the leader's back and float him to her side. She began chanting her mantra, and the two of the lifted into the air, enclosed in black energy, and ghosted through the ceiling.

Beast Boy had sidled over to the detonator and was now poking around, checking it out. "So this is the bomb thing? It's a lot bigger than Slade's decoy. Probably because it's real, right?"

"Probably also because it was meant to impact a greater area," Nightwing added. "Once Cyborg is back in business, we'll come back here and take it completely apart. We can't very well leave it just sitting here for some new villain to find."

"Did you guys figure out who made it?" Beast Boy asked, curious.

"No. All the technicians ran for their lives when the fighting started, so we didn't manage to capture any of them," the de facto leader explicated. "If any of these computers are salvageable, I'm sure we'll be able to figure that out."

Beast Boy nodded, and they settled down to wait for the one remaining Titan. Nightwing had begun to pace before Beast Boy voiced his concerns. "Uh, is it just me, or is it taking Star forever and a day to get back here?"

"It's not just you," Nightwing said, the anxiety audible in his voice. His grip tensed on his flashlight and he ran out the room, Beast Boy hot on his heels. The corridor outside was just as dark, and he scanned the walls for doors as they ran along. It didn't take long for them to find the elevator, and Beast Boy poked the button swiftly.

But nothing happened.

"Damn!" Nightwing groaned. "We cut the power—what was I thinking?" He sighed and ran a hand through his black hair. "Maybe we can force the door and go down the shaft, though," he mused. Extending his bo staff, he rammed it in the crack and forcibly levered the doors apart. They slid back meekly, staying open, and the two Titans peered into the even blacker darkness of the empty elevator shaft.

Beast Boy morphed momentarily into a raccoon and checked down the shaft. "It's not too deep," he said once he was human again. "We must be near the bottom."

Nightwing nodded. "That makes sense. We're in B2 now, and the elevators only went down to B3. Come on," he motioned for Beast Boy to go down, and a small bat flapped into the shadows. Nightwing hooked his grappling hook onto the edge and climbed down, landing quietly. He fumbled with the wall, locating the crack in the doors blindly and opening them as well. He heard more than saw Beast Boy pass through, and he followed, unhooking his flashlight from his belt and turning it on, swinging the beam of light this way and that.

"It smells awful down here," Beast Boy remarked, wrinkling his nose. "Like smoke and burnt stuff."

Even without advanced senses, Nightwing could tell that his teammate was telling the truth. "We must be near the…well, what was the reactor," he amended hastily. "The corridor only seems to go this way." He pointed right, and the pair trotted in that direction, Beast Boy some animal with night vision and Nightwing with his flashlight. They turned a corner and the smell grew stronger and worse. Small hunks of debris now were scattered across the floor, and they reached a mangled doorway that looked like its door had been removed without its consent.

Raccoon-Beast Boy scampered in and let out a bestial shriek, reverting quickly to his usual self.

Nightwing had been right behind Beast Boy and his sharp eyes, despite the dark, had picked out what his friend had seen. His flashlight beam now fell across the crumpled and unmoving form of Starfire, sprawled near the wall to the left. He nearly tripped in his haste to reach her side, and he dropped his flashlight unthinkingly as he fell to his knees next to her.

"Oh, God…oh, God…Star…" he breathed, shaking his head in denial. He gently took her face in his hands, turning it so he could see her better. "God…please be okay…oh, God…"

Beast Boy had retrieved the flashlight and shined it on her. Her uniform was tattered and the back especially was burnt; her hair was singed; and her entire body was covered in smoke-smears. The dark areas on her forehead, beneath her nose, and at the corner of her mouth could only be blood, and it looked as if she had run face-first into a wall.

Nightwing seemed out of his head, and he kept patting her cheeks as he cradled her head in his hands, repeating "oh, God" and "Star" and "no" incoherently. Behind his mask, he could feel the hot tears searing his eyes, and his vision blurred, causing her image to lose its clarity. He tried to blink the wetness away but it was no use; more tears came and leaked from his eyes, dampening his mask and working their way down his cheeks. His heart was beating painfully fast, his breathing all hitched and only half-working, and he knew that he had never felt this terrified in his entire life. And all he could think of was that he had ordered her to do this…he had done this to her…He shook her slightly, begging her to wake up.

Beast Boy's hand on his shoulder brought him somewhat back. "Dude…we have to get her out of here."

Nightwing didn't even look at his teammate. "She'll wake up…she'll wake up…God, she's going to be okay…she'll be okay…God, Star…_wake up_…"

"Robin!" Beast Boy yelled, and that got his leader's attention. "We have to get her to a hospital!"

"No!" Nightwing yelled back. "She's going to the Tower! I'm not leaving her again! Not again!"

"Well, whatever! She needs help, and you being delirious isn't doing her any good! You're not thinking straight, dude!" Beast Boy practically screamed at the other.

"I don't care!" Nightwing roared. "You can't take her from me! I did this to her, don't you realize? I did this to her! I didn't mean to hurt her, but…but…God…God, Star…wake up…please…" he brushed her bangs from her face, his throat thickening and choking away his voice. She remained motionless, utterly unresponsive.

"Robin, we need to get her outta here," Beast Boy insisted, crouching on the other side of Starfire so he could look his friend in the face. He grabbed Nightwing's arm in a reassuring way. "She's gonna be okay, Robin. But we need to move her, alright?"

Nightwing stared at him uncomprehendingly, the tearstains glimmering faintly in the little light. His thoughts began to fall back into order, and he finally nodded. "Right…right…" he whispered, and he gathered her limp form into his arms, standing without difficultly. He kept nodding dumbly, not quite right yet. "Just…just lead the way…" he choked out.

Beast Boy smiled slightly. "That's better, dude," he said encouragingly. "She's gonna be okay."

Nightwing held her a little tighter, a little more protectively and followed Beast Boy out of the useless factory. As they passed through the lobby, the receptionist glared up at them and pursed her too-red lips in disgust.

"Thank God you're leaving," she grumbled.

Beast Boy only stuck out his tongue and widened his eyes with his fingers in true immature Beast Boy fashion.


	13. The Reason Beautiful Disaster

A/N: wow, fun with formatting (especially at the very end, it gets dumb. arg!)! okay, the songs are pretty straightforward: one of them is italicized and one of them is underlined. actually, i think it looks kind of cool how they're run together, but i hope it isn't too hard to read. i wanted to use both of the songs, because if you haven't noticed, i've been doing that the entire time (using songs that reflect Starfire and/or Robin's feelings in general or in that specific chapter). and i use the whole songs this time around because i think they fit just perfectly into how they feel about each other in this final installment. Obviously, Robin's song is on the left and italicized and Star's is on the right and underlined. not too terribly confusing. and if you haven't noticed, i've done a whole theme about time. just felt like pointing that out. just for kicks.

A/N the second: i'd also like to (briefly) thank all my wonderful reviews, especially The Silver Phoenix, Dana-Fire, Rochelleteentitan, and plexus. you guys have really shown some serious loyalty to this story, and i couldn't be more grateful. and reviewers in general are totally awesome, so i thank all you past and future reviewers: you make stories like this possible.

A/N the third: now i'm all done. i hope you like it. and if you don't, please don't tell me. :D

**How Long Is Never?**

**Chapter 13**

_I'm not a perfect person._ He drowns in his dreams,  
_There's many things I wish I didn't do._ An exquisite extreme, I know.  
_But I continue learning,_ He's as damned as he seems  
_I never meant to do those things to you._ And more heaven than a heart could hold.  
_And so I have to say before I go_ And if I try to save him my whole world could cave in.  
_That I just want you to know:_ It just ain't right, no, it just ain't right.

Nightwing rushed into Titan's Tower, Beast Boy only a step and a half behind him. They impatiently rode yet another elevator, ascending to the infirmary, and nearly tripped over their feet in their haste down the final corridor. They burst through the doors, finding Raven hovering in meditation in the corner. She awakened instantly, however, upon their arrival, and glided over to the bed where Nightwing was laying the comatose Starfire.

"What happened to her?" Raven inquired, her voice trembling with poorly concealed emotion.

"I—I don't know," the leader confessed, straightening her head gently on the pillow. "I guess that she got caught in the explosion of the reactor. God, Raven, you _have_ to be able to heal her." His eyes, though masked, fixed pleadingly on the half-demon. His voice cracked and he added huskily, "Please…I can't lose her…"

Raven lowered her hood, her chakra glinting in the bright overhead lamps, and she scrutinized the other Titan closely, her hands hovering over Starfire's frighteningly still form and emanating a soft white light. "There's actually not too much damage superficially." Her eyes closed in concentration and a small frown tugged at the corners of her pale lips. "Internally, though, it's worse. It's as if she slammed into a brick wall going sixty miles an hour. It's lucky she's Tamaranian; this probably would've killed a normal human," she concluded, her voice lowering throughout her diagnosis until she was barely whispering at the end.

Beast Boy gasped, all the vibrancy fading from his green skin, and he clapped a hand over his mouth. "But you can make her better, right? Answer me, Rae!" he demanded, his words thick with emotion.

Nightwing simply stood there, staring at Starfire as if he expected her to open her eyes and wink at him like it were all some grand joke. He was about to reach out and take her limp hand in his when Raven shoved them firmly but gently away.

"I need to get to work immediately if I'm going to save her," she said curtly, "and that means I can't have you two hovering over me." She paused, glancing between the two of them, between the obviously upset Beast Boy and the unnervingly expressionless Nightwing. "She's going to be okay," she added, and even though she was facing the changeling, her gaze fell on their leader, and it was he she was truly trying to reassure.

Beast Boy nodded, swallowing against the lump in his throat, and he grabbed Nightwing's arm and tugged, leading the shocked man away as Raven pulled the curtains around the bed. They trudged all the way down to the common room, stopping by Cyborg's room along the way and ascertaining that he was hooked up to his repair equipment. It seemed that he was well on his way to better health, and the pair continued until they slumped down on the crescent couch.

"She's gonna be okay," Beast Boy echoed Raven's words, but it didn't look like Nightwing even heard him. He was staring listlessly at the floor, or beyond the floor, and Beast Boy didn't think he had ever seen Nightwing—or Robin—look so weak in his entire life. Abruptly, it hit him: Nightwing hadn't wanted to ever hurt Starfire. While his real motives remained unclear and would until the leader himself shed light upon them, still, it was good to know that he cared deeply about her. Beast Boy clapped Nightwing on the shoulder. "Want me to get you anything?"

Nightwing blinked, as if pulled from a trance, and stared at Beast Boy like he was seeing him for the first time. He blinked again and then shook his head. "Oh…no. I don't…no."

Beast Boy nodded. "'Kay," he agreed and walked over to the kitchen, needing to devour some tofu to ease his nerves.

TTTTT

_I've found a reason for me_ Oh, and I don't know, I don't know what he's after  
_To change who I used to be, _But he's so beautiful, such a beautiful disaster.  
_A reason to start over new _And if I could hold on  
_And the reason is you. _Through the tears and the laughter  
Would it be beautiful, or just a beautiful disaster?

Beast Boy had fallen asleep long ago, sprawled on the table by his empty plate, drool issuing from the corner of his mouth and pooling on the tabletop. Nightwing hadn't moved from his seat on the couch, although now he was staring out the gigantic windows as the blackness of the night softened into the hazy gray of dawn, the slightest traces of pink now visible.

Nightwing sighed. Sunrise always had been her favorite time of day, when all was new and perfect and just waiting to be discovered and enjoyed. He had always liked sunrise after she had come because it meant spending another twelve hours by her side. He blinked back one of his lingering tears. He hoped more desperately than anything that she would be able to see the sun rise again, and maybe, just maybe, that she would allow him to share it with her. One of his hands clenched briefly into a fist. He had done so much to her: broken her heart, forced her away, ignored her for years and years, and when she'd come back, done his level best to make her leave again. No one could possibly forgive anyone for doing that. No one except, perhaps, her.

He wasn't even startled when Raven materialized in front of him, her black energy's trademark shape fading away to reveal the petite empath. She stepped cautiously toward him, her hood still lowered, and her usual smile—small but definitely there—was gracing her face.

"I've managed to stabilize her," she informed him, and it was as if she had jolted him with a cattle prod. He practically leapt from his seat, his whole body quivering.

"Is she okay? Can I see her?" he blurted, his unseen eyes pleading again.

Raven nodded, still smiling. "Visiting hours are now until now again tomorrow. Just don't disturb her."

"I won't," he promised, and in a flash, he was gone, sprinting from the common room as if all the legions of hell and Slade were on his heels. He couldn't bear the elevator for the umpteenth time, so he forsook that for the stairs, and he finally came to a breathless halt in front of the infirmary door. He paused, staring at the cold metal, and quieted his breathing and slowed his heart rate before he opened the door. It slid open with a soft _swish_ and he stepped over the threshold, his footfalls magnified in the silence. He approached the curtain apprehensively and took a fistful of the material in his hand, but he couldn't bring himself to push it aside.

Come on, Richard, it's just a curtain, he remonstrated himself inwardly, gathering his strength.

But what if she still looks so…terrible? he asked himself in return. He didn't know if he could take seeing her look so broken, so…dead. He bit back his fears and gently slid the curtain to one side, stepping to her side as he did so. He couldn't really see how badly she was still hurt, as the white sheet was pulled all the way up to her chin to keep her warm, but her face looked better, in any event. The blood had been removed and the scrapes healed, although he noticed a strange, almost gooey substance along her jaw on one side, which he presumed was a salve that was healing a burn. He checked her vitals on the computer, fingers clicking the keys, and, finally satisfied that she was indeed stable as Raven had said, he retrieved a chair and set it at her bedside.

Nightwing felt himself choking up again, and he fought it with all that he had. He had to stay strong for her. He carefully found her hand, clasping it tightly but not too tight. He attempted to swallow but discovered that he could not, and he bowed his head. He didn't know how long he had sat there, eyes shut fiercely to fight the tears, when he finally gathered the courage to look at her again. Her face was devoid of any expression and far too pale, and she seemed almost too serene. He reached over with his other hand and very carefully removed a few wayward auburn strands from her face.

"You have to wake up, Star," he said, barely audible. "I have to explain everything to you. I have to apologize for all that I've done. And I have to tell you that…that…God, Star, come back. You can't leave me. I know I'm not worth hanging around for, but Raven and BB and Cy all want you back, too. So if not for my sake, fight this for theirs, okay?" He bit his lower lip and a tear leaked free; he wiped it away quickly. "I can't lose you, Star. You have to know that. You have to…"

The door opened with a hiss behind and the metallic footfalls of Cyborg could be heard. "Sorry to disturb you, man, but the police want us down at TestCom. They said it shouldn't take long; we just need to hack the computers and they'll handle the rest."

Nightwing nodded and heard the half-android leave the infirmary again. He rose to his feet and replaced her hand beneath the sheet and stood there for a long moment before he bent down and kissed her softly on the forehead.

"Hang in there, Star," he told her as he straightened. "Hang in there."

TTTTT_  
_

_I'm sorry that I hurt you. _He's magic and myth, as strong as what I believe.  
_It's something I must live with everyday. _A tragedy with more damage than a soul should see.  
_And all the pain I put you through_ And do I try to change him?  
_I wish that I could take it all away,_ So hard not to blame him.  
_And be the one who catches all your tears._ Hold on tight, hold on tight.  
_That's why I need you to hear:_

Nightwing and Cyborg arrived at TestCom in very little time, the T-Car executing a perfect parallel park along the curb. They climbed out quickly and went to the building, which was surrounded by police vehicles. As they entered the lobby, they found that it was no different: officers were swarming the place like crazed bees, and to the Titans, everything seemed to be a mass of blue uniforms. They glanced around the mob for a few clueless moments until one of the officers approached them.

"Captain Meyers," she introduced herself, tapping the brim of her hat in acknowledgment of the superheroes. "We needed you to get into the files because most of the computers downstairs are in pretty bad shape. We figured if anyone could hack them, you could."

Cyborg grinned. "You figured right, ma'am. Just lead the way."

Captain Meyers and the Titans weaved their way into the crowd of bustling police and into a crowded elevator. They descended quickly, the locks on the basement levels apparently disengaged, and soon arrived at B2, where the detonator was. She beckoned that they follow her to a cluster of officers, who were all hovering around the few whole computers left in the place after the firefight.

"I can hack these easily," Nightwing told Cyborg, "so you should probably start dismantling that detonator so no one else decides stopping time in Jump City forever is a good idea."

"Gotcha," Cyborg agreed, and his hand sprouted all sorts of tools as he went over to the detonator, a few officers tagging along in case he needed assistance.

Captain Meyers stood behind Nightwing as he fiddled with the computer that appeared to be in the best shape, and he had it running in the space of a few minutes. He brought it over to one of the tables that had been set up and plugged it into the police department's portable generator, booting it up. Soon a password screen appeared, but the leader of the Titans tackled it easily and entered into the mainframe.

"Okay…" he muttered as he set about calling up personnel files. "Here's the list of all the technicians…and then the head honchos," he added, highlighting a few of the names. "These are the guys we especially we want to hunt down, since they're most likely the masterminds behind the whole idea." He unhooked his communicator from his belt and plugged it into the computer's USB port much like one would plug in a flashdrive or memory stick. "I'm going to download these stats so I can follow up on this back at the Tower," he explained to Meyers. "These guys are technical wizards and clearly evil geniuses, but they shouldn't be too excellent at making themselves disappear."

True to Nightwing's statement, only a week had passed before all the culprits were assembled in the police station and confessing their guts out.

Nightwing stood impassively behind the two-way glass, watching the interrogation. He had to find out why they had done it, why they had gone through all this trouble and ruined his own and Starfire's lives along the way.

"So why did you do this?" Captain Meyers demanded, having just read the prisoner his rights.

"It's simple, don't you see?" he explained calmly, as if life in prison were the least of his worries at the moment. "Jump City is a terrible, terrible place. Criminals flock here, as if they just have to try to best the Teen Titans."

No longer "Teen", Nightwing corrected the criminal mentally.

"This has made the city horrible," the man continued smoothly. "Those superheroes don't fix problems; they only attract them. And since there are so many bad people in the city, we decided to take justice upon ourselves. We would freeze the city, destroy time here, so that others would be able to look upon it and tremble for fear going against justice and right. It would be like a museum exhibit: perfectly preserved for the observation and education of the masses."

Captain Meyers looked at the man disdainfully. "You're sick," she said curtly, gesturing to her lieutenant. "Cuff him, Blake, and get him out of my sight. The courts will deal with him now, and it won't be too hard of a decision, I should think."

Nightwing watched Blake haul the man off, and Meyers exited, walking over to the leader of the Titans. "I want to thank you for all your assistance," she said graciously. "We would have been doomed without you, as usual."

"Glad to be of service," he replied. "I have to get going now, though."

Meyers nodded. "Yes, you had a teammate down. I hope she gets better. The city wasn't the same without her."

"No," he agreed softly as he turned to leave. "It wasn't."

TTTTT

_I've found a reason for me _Oh 'cause I don't know, I don't know what he's after.  
_To change who I used to be,_ But he's so beautiful, such a beautiful disaster.  
_A reason to start over new,_ And if I could hold on,  
_And the reason is you. _Through the tears and the laughter,  
Would it be beautiful, or just a beautiful disaster?

Beast Boy frowned at Raven as the half-demon glided into the infirmary. "Why isn't she up yet, Rae? I thought you said that you had healed her. I thought you said that she was fine."

Raven double-checked the monitors. "Physically, Beast Boy, she _is_ fine. If she wanted to, she would be able to wake up any minute now."

The changeling blanched. "You mean…she doesn't _want _to wake up?"

Raven sighed. "It's complicated," she finally allowed. "The matters of mind and spirit are far more complex than those of the corporeal form—I of all people should know that." She fell silent then, bustling around, straightening her friend's sheets.

Beast Boy looked back at Starfire. Her color had returned and she was, as Raven had said, entirely healed. She only appeared to be sleeping except for the sense of awful stillness that persistently hung about her motionless body. He held her hand gently, noting that it was warm.

"Is it because…Robin hasn't been here?" he ventured, squeezing her hand and searching her face for any sign of reaction, but he found none.

"It could be," Raven allowed, still fiddling uselessly with the sheet before she retired from the infirmary.

Beast Boy sat in Nightwing's vacated chair, as the leader was still helping the police track down the maniacs who had built the chronotron detonator, and studied his friend for a long, long moment. Suddenly struck by a stroke of genius, he leapt from his chair and dashed down the hallway to his leader's bedroom. He keyed in the password, which all the Titans knew in case of emergency (which Beast Boy felt this qualified as), and proceeded to raid Nightwing's closet. Behind the row of black uniforms were a few of the old, colorful ones.

"Just like old times," Beast Boy mumbled as he pulled on the Robin outfit, recalling that time Robin had gone to train under the True Master and all the other Titans had dressed up in his uniform. He affixed the mask to his face last and reviewed himself in the mirror. The uniform had never fit him well in the first place, and now that he had grown, it especially didn't fit him well. But he looked like Robin, albeit a seasick Robin, and he figured that might be enough.

Peering cautiously into the hallway, Beast Boy snuck back into the infirmary and sat down again at Starfire's bedside. This was one desperate gamble, but hey, it never hurt to try. He took her hand once more, now wearing the old green gloves, and faked his voice an octave lower.

"Hey, Star…it's me, Robin," he pretended, observing her closely for any sign of life. But she still refused to stir.

"Come on, Star…" he insisted, refusing to give up so easily. "We all want you back. Even me, your stubborn, blockheaded leader, Robin. You need to wake up, okay? You need to wake up so that you can make all your weird food again and torture us with it. We won't complain, promise! Cross my heart and swear to die, you can feed me anything you want that tastes like sushi and ice cream! In fact, I've never been so excited to eat anything made from a fungus! Although I do like mushrooms, so really that's not…" he trailed off with a sigh. "You just need to wake up. You're one of the best friends I've ever, ever had, and life is not the same without you. It's a lot less fun and a lot less happy. Come on. Wake up."

The door hissed open behind him and he could almost hear Raven's eyes bugging out of her head. "Beast Boy! What in Azar are you doing dressed like that?"

"You said emotional problems were keeping her out!" he whispered angrily. "I was just being Robin so she'd wake up. I don't think that's a crime."

"No," she agreed softly, "it's sweet. And completely ridiculous," she added to retain her image as the all-sarcastic and emotionless half-demon. "When Nightwing comes back, he probably won't like it too much."

"Ah, you ruin everything," Beast Boy muttered, though he did make a mental note that Raven thought he was sweet. "Can I at least keep the glove?"

"Sure, BB," she said as she glided away again, using his nickname for the first time.

The changeling punched the air. "Score one for Beast Boy!"

TTTTT_  
_

_I'm not a perfect person._ I'm longing for love and the logical,  
_I never meant to do those things to you. _But he's only happy hysterical.  
_And so I have to say before I go_ I'm waiting for some kind of miracle.  
_That I just want you to know:_ Waited so long, so long.

The blackness slowly gave way to a glaring white light, and she squinted her eyes against the unfamiliar brightness, trying to get her bearings. As she glanced around, she realized that she was in the infirmary of the Tower, and that the light was the overhead lamp and that annoying little beeping sound her monitor. She felt a familiar texture covering the hand in hers, and she looked excitedly and found…Beast Boy.

Her brow wrinkled. Beast Boy? She glanced down at their hands and saw that he was wearing one of Robin's old gloves. What? She shifted a little, her entire body sore, but she couldn't quite remember why she was hurting. It had something to do with…something. She tried to speak but found she had no voice; she swallowed, cleared her throat, and tried again.

"BB?" she whispered a little huskily.

"Wha?" he blinked sleepily, jerking from his slumber, and looked at her. "What did ya say, Star?" He continued to look at her uncomprehendingly for a half second more before he leapt to his feet in ecstasy. "Star! You're awake! I would hug you but that would probably hurt! God, you're finally awake!"

"Finally?" she echoed, confused. "How long was I out?"

"Oh, a little more than a week," Beast Boy calculated. "A week and three days, to be exact. So ten days. Yeah. Ten days. But hey, you did almost get blown up, so I guess you weathered that rather well, didn't ya?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess I did," Starfire murmured, now recalling the reactor's explosion. She glanced around the infirmary again expectantly. "Where's…Robin?"

"He was just here, I swear," the changeling said. "He got up and left about five minutes ago, said there was something he wanted to do before you woke up."

"Something as in…?" she asked curiously, cocking a small eyebrow at the other.

Beast Boy shrugged. "How should I know? I can't read minds; I'm not Raven." He chuckled at his own joke. "But really, Star, he's been worried sick about you. He practically went psycho when we found you after the whole explosion. He's been here every minute of every day except when he was tracking down those baddies that made the detonator-thingy and just now." He paused and squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I think he really does care about you."

She smiled gratefully at his words and then turned a quizzical glance at his hand. "So…why are you wearing Robin's glove?"

Beast Boy grinned bashfully. "Long story. I'll tell it some other time. Can you get up? Do you feel okay?"

"A little sore, but that's to be expected," she replied, flexing her muscles experimentally. "But I seem to be in proper working order, so…" With Beast Boy's help, she scooted off the hospital bed and gained her feet. Once standing, she stretched tentatively but found herself to be in relatively good shape. "Yeah. I think it's high time I got some sleep in a more comfortable bed and maybe have some real food later."

"Glad you're up," Beast Boy said seriously.

"You're a good friend, BB," she told him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, furrowing his green brow.

"It means keep doing what you're doing," she replied with a little laugh as she walked somewhat stiffly from the infirmary and down the hall to her bedroom. She poked in the access code, amazed that she felt tired after being unconscious for ten days, although she supposed that being unconscious and sleeping weren't quite the same thing. It was dark in her room, and she glanced at her clock—no wonder, it was only 5:34 in the morning.

She flopped down on her soft bed and pulled her thick comforter around her body, hearing something rustle, something like paper. She sat up, still cocooned in the blankets, and peered around in the darkness for the culprit. There, lying on the plush carpet, was a piece of paper that was folded in half. She flung the blankets off and went to turn on the lights; returning to her bed, she lifted the paper and her heart lurched in her chest as she recognized the handwriting: a seemingly contradictory combination of neat script and messy scrawl.

The front read "Star" and she curiously, nervously opened it and smoothed out the crease before she began to read.

_Star—_

_There's so much I have to tell you, I don't even know where to begin. I have so much to explain and so much to apologize for, I guess this could go on forever. But since I'm not too good at this, it probably won't. First of all, I never really wanted you to go. But you were in danger here, and I didn't want you to stay here where some mysterious sniper was threatening you. I couldn't protect you, you see. I felt awful because I hadn't been able to save you from that first bullet, like it was somehow my fault that I wasn't fast enough or intuitive enough. And then when you came to talk to me, I realized that I could keep you here, with me, with just one word. And I couldn't let that happen because then you'd be in danger, a danger I already learned I couldn't protect you from. So that's why I rejected you. I wanted you to leave and go somewhere you'd be safe. And even though you did and I knew you'd be okay, it still killed me to do that to you. But, you alive and hating me was better than you dead and loving me._

_Second, when you returned, I was furious. Of course you knew that, but I was mad because you were willfully putting yourself in harm's way again. I thought for some reason that you would stay away until I'd figured this all out and solved the problem, and then I could hunt you down and grovel for a decade or two. But I guess it didn't happen that way, did it? No. You just showed up that day, and as glad as I was to see you—I really was happy—I was so mad that you were in that position again, that position I couldn't protect you in. I guess it's obvious now that I'm hyper-protective of the people I care about, and you are certainly no exception. I'm probably the most obsessive about you, actually. Anyway, I'm so, so, so, so, so sorry that I hurt you as much and as often as I did. If circumstances had been different, realize that this never would have happened. I never would have pushed you away. You're too important to me._

_I would say more, except I can't find the words to put it all down. If you want to talk to me, and I hope you do, then come to the roof after you've read this. I'll be up there, waiting, for as long as it takes. I know you'll be awake when you're reading this, but since you aren't yet, I'll add this in the hope that you might somehow hear me: please wake up, Star. I can't lose you._

—_Robin_

Starfire lowered the letter slowly to her lap, her gaze fixed on the glowing numerals of her Mumbo alarm clock. 5:40. She read the letter again after marshaling her thoughts, the words sinking in. And at 5:47, she walked out the door, her mind made up.

TTTTT

_I've found a reason for me _He's soft to the touch,  
_To change who I used to be,_ But frayed at the end he breaks.  
_A reason to start over new,_ He's never enough,  
_And the reason is you. _And still he's more than I can take.

The sun was rising over Jump City and Titan's Tower as Starfire opened the door to the roof, the cool morning breeze chilling her exposed skin and toying with her hair. She lingered where she was in the doorway for a long moment, gazing across the roof toward the black-garbed figure seated at the far side. There he was, just as he promised he would be. She wondered if all he had said was true, if he had really done all that only to protect her. She wondered if now would be different. She wondered a thousand other things.

But at length she was able to move, and she closed the door silently behind her, folding her arms for warmth on her chest as she walked quietly across the roof. She had gotten halfway across before he turned around, and upon seeing her, he started to his feet, a broad smile appearing on his face. She didn't think that she'd ever seen him so happy before in her life.

"Star! You're awake!" he exclaimed, and he started toward her, as if he would envelope her in a hug, but he paused awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck as she arrived at his side. "Er, would you like to…sit down?"

She nodded her acquiescence, and they both sat on the edge of the roof, their legs dangling, and every so often, she would kick hers childishly. She glanced at him sidelong, a few auburn hairs dancing across her vision, and asked quietly, "Is there something you wanted, Robin?"

He nodded and shifted his weight nervously. "Er…I guess you got my letter, right?"

"I did," she admitted, and she looked down at the ocean before glancing up at the pink tendrils venturing across the graying dawn sky. How she loved sunrise. "I didn't know you were so fond of writing."

"I'm not, really," he said quickly, his gloved hands gripping the concrete ledge they were seated on. "But…what did you think?"

She braced herself on her hands as well, crossing her legs comfortably. At length she remarked, "I wanted to know if it were all true. All of it. About my leaving and my return and everything else."

"Every word," he assured, practically before she had finished her last sentence. "I am so sorry for everything that happened," he continued. "If I could convince you any more, just tell me how so that you'll believe me. I don't know what else to do. I never…God, Star, I never wanted you to leave, really. I felt you had to because I felt myself inadequate, but I never wanted to see you go. I never wanted you gone from my life for five years." He swallowed and glanced at her. "You do understand that, right? Please, Star…"

She sighed, her exhale lost on the breeze. She had done so much thinking, so much pondering, on this matter, but now it all seemed useless because she'd known the answer, the end result all along. "I never thought I would be able to understand why you did what you did. But…" she shook her head slightly, "now I think I do. And Robin…"

"Yeah?" he prompted, looking squarely at her.

She cocked her head to one side. "Before I ask that question, let me do one thing," she told him, and before he could object, she had reached over and peeled off his mask. He squinted protectively, but once he relaxed, she could see his eyes clearly. They were a dark blue, and all they reminded her of was the ocean, possessing all its depth and its ability to stay the same and yet always change. "You have nice eyes," she commented, although she knew that was a severe understatement; she was quite convinced she had never seen more beautiful ones. "Why do you keep them covered?"

"Long story," he waved his hand dismissively. "I'll tell you later if you really want to know."

"I do," she agreed. "And before I ask the question I was going to ask, let me ask this…Beast Boy said you were worried sick about me…were you?"

His eyes went wide, as if he could not believe he was being asked that. "God, Star…you mean more to me than anything, and to think that I could lose you forever—that was tearing me up inside." He laughed mirthlessly. "I don't think I've ever been quite this open and chatty before, but I want you to understand so badly…"

"Understandable," she replied, glowing inwardly. He _did_ care about her, and he _was_ sorry, and she meant more to him than _anything_…time for the last question. "So, Robin…I must ask you one last thing."

"Anything you want to know, I'll tell you," he said sincerely, tentatively laying his hand on hers.

"How long is never?"

He bowed his head, and when he raised his eyes to hers again, navy meeting jade, he smiled slightly. "I'd say about five years. Five long, awful years."

"So…" she mused, grinning, "would you say that…oh, I don't know…that those five years are up about…well…now, shall we say? Wouldn't that be about five years?"

"Almost to the day," he agreed, shifting closer on the ledge. "I didn't really like never, and I don't ever want to deal with it again. I'd much rather deal with its opposite."

"Which is?" she asked, wanting him to come out and say it, confess it out loud.

"Which is forever," he whispered, and he tugged his glove off and cautiously touched her jaw with his fingers. "Could you grant me the honor?"

"The honor of what?" she continued coyly, hardly able to believe that any of this was happening.

"You and me. Forever. And I'll do my best to always be the man you need, so help me God," he answered huskily, inching ever closer.

"You and me, eh? I think I could handle that…" she trailed off, and she found herself wondering if it were humanly possible to be any closer and not kissing.

"One more thing, Star," he said, his breath warm.

"Mm?"

He held her gaze steadily, smiling just at the corners of his lips. "I love you. Always have, always will."

She smiled in return. "Finally!" she said in mock exasperation right before he silenced her, kissing her softly, chastely on the lips. He pulled away, as if to determine her reaction, but she made it easy for him.

"Honestly, Robin, you call that a kiss? Come _on_…that was pathetic…"

He smirked at that and cradled her face in his hands and kissed her full on the mouth and there was hardly anything chaste about this one. She couldn't believe that she could be feeling this much bliss, especially after all they had gone through, but then she decided that she didn't care in the slightest at that moment and lost herself in him, her hands sliding up his chest and around his neck and into his hair. He held her tightly to his body, and it was a long, long time later that they separated, each trying to control their breathing.

"I love you, too, Robin," she said as they reclined on the roof, now facing the rising sun.

"It's good to know," he teased her, wrapping his arm around her as she rested her head on his shoulder. "You're beautiful, you know that, right?"

She glanced up at him and smiled. This moment, this one moment, made it all worthwhile. "So are you."

Time is a curious thing. Sometimes forever is bad. And sometimes it's just perfect.

_I've found a reason to show_ Oh 'cause I don't know, I don't know what he's after.  
_A side of me you didn't know, _But he's so beautiful, such a beautiful disaster.  
_A reason for all that I do,_ And if I could hold on,  
_And the reason is you. _Through the tears and the laughter,

Would it be beautiful, or just a beautiful disaster? 

He's beautiful, such a beautiful disaster.

_--"The Reason", Hoobastank_ --"Beautiful Disaster", Kelly Clarkson

_La Fin._

The End.

When there's trouble, you know who to call. Faye


End file.
